


Just a Game

by LilyLisa



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sports, Angst, Bullying, Drama, F/F, Football | Soccer, High School, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyLisa/pseuds/LilyLisa
Summary: Lisa thinks she saw Kim Jennie at the match.But this can't be right.Jennie hangs out with the bullies.They hate the soccer team.





	1. Just One Game

**Author's Note:**

> !Warning! Contains swearwords and homophobic language.

****Lisa kicks the ball and holds her breath, watching as it spins in a wide arch.

The goalkeeper is too far in the left corner – a mistake in position Lisa immediately took notice of and mercilessly used to her advantage. Even fully stretched in a desperate leap for the ball, the girl isn't able to reach it.

The referee's whistle cuts through the air, and the crowd raises from the bleachers, bursting into loud cheers.

As if following their call, Lisa swivels around, escapes the hugs her teammates try to drown her in, and runs to celebrate with the supporters. Most of them are her classmates and their families. Some are wearing the yellow-black jerseys of her team. She looks for her parents, but to her disappointment, they aren't among the crowd.

In her search for them, however, someone else catches her attention. She notices a person standing under the bleachers – long, dark hair and a trademark, leather jacket.

Lisa frowns.

(It can't possibly be her.)

“You okay there, champ?” Chaeyoung appears next to her and leads her back to the pitch. “The referee is gonna give you a warning for stalling the game.”

“Sorry, I just thought I saw--,” she glances behind her, but the person is no longer there.

“Who?” Chaeyoung gives her an amused look as she leans in with a whisper, “your crush?”

Lisa flares up in an instant.

“Shut up,” she squeaks, shoving her friend away.

“Better focus on the game, champ. There's still half an hour to go.” Chaeyoung snickers as she runs towards their own goal.

Lisa opens her mouth, but no sound leave them apart from an annoyed huff.

The match is resumed.

Lisa scores two more goals, sealing another victory for the East High Seoul Tigers.

(It's a good start of the spring season.)

* * *

Lisa's favorite song flows from the speakers. But even that fact doesn't bring her down from the quiet balcony to the center of the party below it. She is way too exhausted to dance, or to deal with Jisoo's antics, which are the reason why she fled here in the first place.

She was actually hoping to go home after the game, but Chaeyoung said her parents had gone on a business trip and so, they absolutely, without a doubt, needed to throw a party at her place, celebrating their first win of the spring season. Knowing her teammates would be disappointed if she didn't join them (Jisoo said that the captain's presence was essential to keep up their team's good morale), she accepted the invitation.

She feels bad that in the end she chose to hide from them on the balcony, but apart from being sore and tired, she simply isn't in a party mood.

Her parents promised her that they would attend the match, but again it ended on just that, empty promises. And although she should have seen it coming (after all, it wasn't the first time, and probably not the last one either), the letdown was still a bitter pill to swallow.

(Victories always carry a hint of bitterness.

Maybe it's time to get used to it.)

She sighs and takes a sip of her juice. In an attempt to distract herself from all the pessimistic ruminations, her thoughts drift to the mysterious person from under the bleachers.

Just then a familiar, huskier than usual, voice resounds behind her.

"There you are, champ." 

Lisa turns around and sees Chaeyoung standing in the threshold, hands resting on hips as she looks at her in mock disapproval.

"Is that a Screwdriver in your hand, or just a plain OJ?” The girl points to Lisa's glass once she joins her on the balcony.

Lisa offers a sheepish smile. “You know me. ."

"Booooring," Chaeyoung teases, but with no real harm as she pinches Lisa's cheek. "Everyone is looking for you. Why are you hiding, hm?”

"Jisoo wanted to play beer pong." Lisa pulls a wry face. "I suck at it. So I'm hiding here until she's drunk enough not to care.”

"Maybe instead of throwing the ball, you should kick it?"

"Nah, I wouldn't want to strip her of her beer pong champion title. I'm sure she would cry.”

They both snicker at the cheeky statement.

"You feeling okay?” Chaeyoung asks after a moment of prolonged silence. “Haven't seen you acting so quiet ever since we lost to West High last year.”

Lisa diverts her pensive look from the starless sky back to her friend.

"The next match won't be that easy,” she blurts out. “We play against Daegu Dragons. They have good strikers. We should work on our defense and--”

"Woow, slow down there champ,” Chaeyoung cuts in, patting Lisa on the back. “First of all, our defense plays just fine, thank you very much. Second of all, don't think I haven't noticed those glances you kept stealing at the bleachers.” She wiggles her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Lisa groans in defeat.

(Nothing ever goes past Chaeyoung's attention.

Guess that's why she's a defender.)

Chewing on her bottom lip, Lisa contemplates whether her actual thoughts are even worth sharing. However, with the way Chaeyoung's eyes drill holes in her, it's not like she has a choice anyway. The girl won't let her off the hook unless she gets a satisfying answer.

"I think I saw Jennie today at the game.”

Chaeyoung's eyebrows inch up. “Jennie? As in Kim Jennie, the bully who hangs out with Jimin and her shady group of friends, and who also happens to hate our guts?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “Yes, that Jennie.”

"But why would she be there? I mean, unless she wanted to call us names, that is,” Chaeyoung scoffs.

"I don't think that was the case,” Lisa says unsure. “She was standing under the bleachers. It looked like she came to watch us in secret.”

"You've probably seen someone else then.” Chaeyoung waves her palm dismissively. “No one from Jimin's minions would ever attend our game, just to watch it. C'mon Lisa, think about it.”

Remembering the slurs Jimin throws their way at the school corridors, Lisa concludes that Chaeyoung is probably right.

Among her clique, Jimin is treated like some kind of guru. Lisa doesn't know whether it's because the girl is a daughter of a politician, or she simply exudes so much charisma, but she imagines that whatever opinions Jimin holds, they are treated like unspoken laws and rules of conduct by her 'followers'.

She heaves a sigh.

(It's stupid, and straight up delusional, but she really hoped that Jennie was different.)

"Wait...” Chaeyoung bounces back from the railing, mouth agape and eyes sparkling with realization.

"What?” Lisa frowns, not liking her friend's expression.

"Don't tell me you have a crush on that Jennie girl.”

"What?!” Lisa shrieks, tips of her ears turning bright red. “No way! I told you I don't have a crush on anyone.”

"Oh please,” Chaeyoung drawls, shooting her an unconvinced look. “Since you've already told me you're gay, you may just as well tell me who exactly makes your little gay heart flutter. We have plenty of drop-dead gorgeous girls at school. I can't believe no one has caught the attention of our champ.”

Lisa drops her gaze to the floor, hiding her flushed cheeks behind the curtain of her blond hair. For some unfathomable reason, the only person that comes to her mind should never be mentioned in the context of such conversation.

(Yet, the image is startlingly vivid - stern and sullen face, with soft eyes and lush lips that send Lisa's mind into the realm of forbidden dreams.)

"Son S-seungwan,” she stammers the name of a girl who stands in stark contrast to the one whose image cannot leave her mind.

As expected, Chaeyoung isn't buying it.

"The choir girl?”

"Y-yeah, she's pretty and talented,” Lisa continues to lie, avoiding her friend's gaze.

Chaeyoung chuckles lightly. “It's okay. You can tell me whenever you're ready.”

Lisa opens her mouth, but she doesn't know how to refute her friend's statement, again.

(When it comes to words, Chaeyoung always wins.)

Below them Jisoo announces in a drunken slur that she has won another beer pong championship. At the same time, Momo shouts something about cheating (at least, that's what Lisa assumes based on her limited knowledge of Japanese).

"Seems like Jisoo will no longer bother you,” Chaeyoung remarks, amused. “Let's go back, shall we?”

Lisa nods, deciding that being left alone with her own thoughts didn't do her any good, and together they return to their friends.

The party, however, has significantly lost on its earlier intensity.

Jisoo lies passed out on the couch, an empty beer bottle dangling from her hand. Next to her sits Momo, holding a bowl of crisps and staring into distance, as if her soul has left her body. In the corner, beside a potted fig tree, Yuna sobs, apologizing in hiccups about some irrelevant past mistakes.

"I'm sor--ry I've lost your no--tes. I didn't me--an to.”

"But you've found them the next day,” Hyejeong says, rubbing Yuna's back in a comforting manner.

Choa seconds her with fierce nods of her head.

Not sure whether to feel concerned or amused by the picture, Lisa turns to Chaeyoung for help.

The girl instantly dispels her worries with a grin.

"They'll be fine, trust me,” she assures then skips to the glass table where her laptop lies.

After a few gentle taps against the keyboard, the room comes to life with a subtle electronic tune and airy vocals. Lisa's favorite song. She smiles at Chaeyoung who joins her in the middle of the room and together they sway to the steady, melancholic beat.

And as Lisa listens to the song's lyrics, spelling hesitance and confusion, she can't stop thinking about a certain pair of soft eyes.

* * *

Jennie runs, catching searing breaths through parched lips. Drops of sweat trickle down her temples and pain rips at her muscles, but she doesn't stop.

(She cannot.

She has been noticed.

She shouldn't have gone there.)

Risking a glance over her shoulder, she looses her balance, boots skidding against the gravel, and she falls to the ground. She tastes dirt in her mouth and feels her palms sting.

A quiet rustle of leaves makes her turn around in haste. With frantic eyes, she scans the path ahead of her.

But this part of the forest is empty - the warm spring breeze her only companion. No one else is there to witness her humiliation. And yet, she cannot shake the feeling of being observed.

Letting out a shaky breath, she falls back to the ground. The sky stretches above her in beautiful pastel pink hues.

(She just wanted to watch.

Just one game.

Was that too much to ask?)

She swallows the tears that clog her throat and stands up from the ground. Dusting off her leather jacket, she decides to go home and change her clothes before going to Jimin's place.

She'll be late. But it's easier to come up with an excuse for tardiness than to answer questions about her disheveled state and bloodied palms.

(They would probably laugh at her, too.)

Before she leaves, she looks one last time into the direction of the school's stadium.

(She cannot see it from here.

But the feeling of being observed persists.)

* * *

“Jennie, is that you?”

Her mother calls out from the kitchen when she enters the house.

She lets the silence answer for her as she shuffles upstairs to her room, hoping her mother is busy enough not to strike up another pointless conversation with her.

No such luck, though...

“Jennie?”

Hearing her mother's concerned voice, Jennie stops halfway up the stairs, but doesn't turn around.

She sighs in frustration. “What?”

“Could you at least look at me when I talk to you?”

Rolling her eyes, Jennie slowly turns to face her mother.

“Happy now?”

The woman's eyebrows furrow, though more in worry than sternness, as she wipes her wet hands on her apron.

“You are late. Where have you been?”

“With Bobby at the park,” Jennie lies with practiced ease.

(It was difficult at the beginning.

Now, it has become her second nature.)

“You could at least message me that you will be late. I was worried.”

“I ran out of money on my phone,” Jennie states flatly.

The woman sighs, shaking her head. Her eyes are soft and tired, and they don't seem to recognize Jennie anymore.

(Jennie considers this a success.)

“I heard there was a game today,” her mother speaks up, voice careful as if treading on thin ice. “Maybe next time, you could go with Bobby--”

“He hates soccer,” Jennie cuts off harshly and spins around to continue her march up the stairs.

“Jennie, wait. Jennie!”

Impassive to her mother's calls, Jennie slams the door to her room shut and rests her forehead against it.

She's tired. Tired of listening to the same conversations, full of the same arguments laced with the same amount of hope, over and over again.

She'd imagined that by now her mother would have given up already, like her father did. He has settled on demanding good grades, and commented their arguments with silent shakes of his head.

Her mother, however, still cannot accept her choice. And Jennie cannot understand why it is such a big deal, in the first place.

(After all, it's just a stupid game.)

Dragging fingers through her hair, Jennie takes off her dirty jacket and throws it onto the bed. Involuntarily, her gaze drops to the yellow box peeking from underneath the bed, as if mocking her.

(Her personal Pandora's box.

Full of treacherous nostalgia.)

Coming up to the bed, she kicks the box to hide it and makes a mental note to throw it away later. 

This time for good.

* * *

Since Jimin is a daughter of a respected politician, Jennie's mother never opposed their friendship. Therefore, whenever Jennie says she goes to the girl's place for a sleepover, the woman has no qualms against letting her go.

What Jennie's mother doesn't know, however, is that Jimin's reputation isn't as pristine as her father's, and that 'the sleepovers' consist mainly of drinking alcohol at Jimin's summerhouse located just outside the city.

Jennie arrives there alone by bus, still vexed about her own lateness.

Pulling her jacket closer to herself, she steps through a small gate. The lights in the cabin are on and a thumping rhythm comes muffled through its thin walls.

Jennie doesn't knock, simply pushing the door open.

“Heey, babe!” Bobby's gruff voice greets her. He just happened to pass by right in front of the door when she entered. “I thought you wouldn't make it.”

“Sorry, mom was being a bitch, as usual.” Jennie shrugs, shoving hands to the pockets of her jacket as she looks around the small place.

Behind the kitchen bar, Seolhyun chugs tequila shots served by Hanbin. Chanmi cheers her on, while Mina immortalizes the whole feat with her phone. Nothing new.

“Has Jimin asked about me?” Jennie asks conversationally.

Bobby snorts at her question.

“Try to talk with someone's tongue shoved up your throat.” He cocks his head, pointing the couch behind him.

Jennie spots the making out couple. Jimin sitting on Junhoe's lap as they devour each other's mouth. He paws at her legs, making her black skirt ride up and expose her thighs.

Jennie tears her gaze away and looks back at Bobby; vaguely aware that her palms clench into fists.

“They're going at it for the past half an hour,” her boyfriend whines. “Yo! Told you to get a room!” he shouts, but the couple doesn't even flinch.

“Jealous much?” Jennie smirks, arching a challenging brow.

Bobby mimics her expression as he steps closer. They fall against the door, kissing. His lips are dry and stiff, but Jennie accepts them readily. When his hands become too bold, though, sliding up her skirt, she pulls away. Much to his displeasure, which she promptly disregards.

“I need to use the bathroom,” she says, stepping aside.

Bobby's bunny teeth sparkle in an eager grin.

“Okay.” He turns to follow her, but she puts a firm hand onto his chest.

“Alone.”

* * *

Blood drips down her palms, staining a white porcelain sink. The small gashes from her earlier fall tore open under the pressure of her nails.

(It was okay, a step up from bearable, until his hands ventured too far.)

She unscrews the tap and coats her hands in a generous amount of soap. The white foam turns faint red, and she observes the process as an excuse to avoid her reflection in the mirror above the sink.

She keeps her palms under the cold water until the bleeding stops. Afraid to stain the white towel, she uses the toilet paper to wipe her hands dry. Leaving the bathroom, she bumps right into Jimin.

“Fuck.” She flinches, hand flying to grip at her chest. “Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

Jimin only stares at her, a smirk curling the edges of her glossy lips. She's in a perfectly composed state. No signs of her earlier activities visible. It's only when she steps closer, and the light from the bathroom illuminates her face, that Jennie notices her eyes looking darker and more intense than ever.

(She fights the sudden urge to swallow.)

“I almost thought you wouldn't honor us with your presence, today,” Jimin remarks.

And Jennie cannot quite tell whether she's joking, or she actually has something against her.

After knowing each other for almost half a year, Jennie feels that the more time she spends with Jimin, the less she can be sure of what's going through her head.

Jimin is quick to express her disdain and animosity towards people she doesn't tolerate, but in the presence of her friends, it's indifference and flippancy that mostly dominate her character. Mostly, because at times, she can be quite unpredictable.

(Sometimes Jennie thinks it's easier to be Jimin's enemy than her friend.

But she wouldn't dare to test that theory on herself.

Jimin can be also cruel, if she wants to.)

“I wouldn't do that to you, guys. I know you'd miss me too much,” Jennie counters, sporting a smug grin of her own.

One thing that Jennie has learned about the girl is that confidence is the key to stay on her good side.

Jimin snorts under her breath, like she doesn't buy Jennie's bravado, but it entertains her anyway.

“Of course we would,” she affirms easily and steps past Jennie, entering the bathroom.

Only after she hears a distinct click of closing doors, does Jennie relax, glad that the girl didn't ask questions, nor noticed her wounded hands. However, before she leaves the dark corridor, she cannot resist the urge to glance over her shoulder.

(The doors are closed.

No one observes.)

With a sharp inhale, she goes back to the main room. The moment she steps through its threshold, Chanmi approaches her, arms crossed at her chest and a frown marring her otherwise delicate features.

“Could you ask your boyfriend to stop acting like a jerk?” the girl asks in her whiny voice.

Jennie looks over her shoulder at Bobby who spins a green beer bottle in his hand.

“C'mon, just one game. What's the harm?” he throws the question, sweeping his smiling eyes over each gathered person.

“What game?” Jennie turns to Chanmi and the look she gets from the younger girl makes her feel stupid for asking.

“Spin the bottle, duh?”

Jennie groans. Bobby is known for his dumb ideas, which get only dumber once he's drunk, but even in his tipsy state, he should know better than to propose such game.

“I'm not kissing girls,” Mina states from her spot on the kitchen counter, the phone still in her palm.

“Why? Guys are gonna kiss, too,” Bobby says and puckers his lips to the camera.

Mina recoils, throwing a crisp at him. For some reason, Seolhyun finds the whole situation incredibly hilarious as she falls into a drunken giggling fit, bending over the counter.

“What the hell, dude?” Junhoe snarls, arms spread in pretense.

“Bro, think about it. You could witness those two making out.” Bobby points the bottle first at Jennie then at Mina.

A mixture of anger and embarrassment crawls along Jennie's skin, making it prickle with unwanted heat.

“Shut up Bobby,” she growls between gritted teeth. “It's not funny.”

“Hey, I heard the soccer team is having a party at Chaeyoung's place,” Mina chimes in with a sneer. “Maybe you should try your luck there.”

“I bet Chaeyoung is a dyke, together with Manoban,” Chanmi remarks, smirking at Mina as they mentally high-five each other.

“Aren't they all a bunch of lesbians, basically?” Hanbin, who was a passive listener up until this point, concludes mockingly.

Mina, Chanmi and Junhoe laugh at his words, as if they were a pinnacle of comedy. Jennie forces a chuckle, before gulping down the tightness that grips at her throat.

“Y'all need to chill and play the game with me.” Bobby continues, unaffected. “Hopefully, sharing some sweet lady kisses.”

Jennie is about to snap at him again, maybe even slap his stupid grinning face, when all of a sudden, Jimin enters the room. She saunters up to Bobby, takes the bottle from his hand and flings it at the floor.

Jennie flinches at the sound of shattering glass, and Chanmi cowers behind her, clutching her arm. Mina's phone turns from a camera into a convenient distraction, while Seolhyun's eyes regain some semblance of sobriety.

Bobby just stares blankly at the glass shards scattered under his feet.

“Chanmi, could you be so kind and clean the mess Bobby made?” Jimin drones as she goes behind the bar to grab herself a drink.

The girl nods meekly and scuttles to the bathroom to get a dustpan and a broom.

“June, change the song to something less annoying, please?”

The electronic tune and soft vocals are promptly replaced by a more upbeat song.

(Jennie prefers the previous one.

It was oddly relaxing.

But it's not like it matters, anyway.)

After Chanmi cleans the mess, no one brings up the topic of games or the soccer team.

The atmosphere relaxes significantly as everyone fall back into a pattern of drinking, dancing and pointless conversations.

Jennie, however, doesn't speak with Bobby through the rest of the night. He tries to coax her with heartfelt apologies, admitting to acting like a jerk, but each such attempt is met with Jennie's hard glares.

Soon enough, the alcohol becomes her remedy for the burning feeling of humiliation.

Jimin passes her a glass after glass, and lets her sleep on the couch once everyone leaves. Jennie finds it uncharacteristically sympathetic, as well as ironic.

(If only she knew...)

 

 **TBC**  


	2. Just One Kick

Jennie wakes up to the sound of running water.

Her eyes heavy with sleep, struggling to open under the sharp sunlight that filters through the open blinds. Her arm falls over her eyelids, a temporary shield against the sun, until she hears a distinct, aloof voice coming from above.

“Morning.”

It works better than a bucket of cold water as Jennie's eyes snap open and she scrambles to sit up. She sucks in a calming breath, glaring at Jimin as she exhales slowly.

“Could you fucking stop doing that?”

Standing behind the couch, Jimin quirks an eyebrow. Tips of her hair are dripping wet, and she wears nothing but a silk bathrobe. A mug with steaming coffee nestled in her palms.

“Doing what?” she inquires and hides her smirk behind the rim of the mug.

Jennie's glare hardens. “Creeping up on me.”

“I'm not,” Jimin states calmly. “Maybe you just have something on your conscious?”

“What?” Jennie blurts out, too defensively for her own liking.

She blames it on her mind being still hazy from the lingering intoxication.

“They say that if you get startled easily, it means you have something on your conscious,” Jimin provides, her expression unreadable as she takes another sip.

Jennie's tongue darts to wet her dry lips.

She isn't sure whether she should answer the question, or is it just Jimin messing around with her, again.

(Sometimes Jennie feels as if Jimin sees right through her – through the facade and the lies.

But if she does, would she keep her so close?

No.

And it's better not to think what she would do if she really knew the truth.)

“Nothing more than what you have,” Jennie intones nonchalantly, stretching arms above her head.

Jimin chuckles. “Fair enough.”

She saunters around the couch and takes a seat in an armchair opposite to Jennie.

“What happened to your hands?” she asks, sounding like a good cop would sound during an interrogation.

Jennie hates it.

“Tripped on my way here,” she provides without going into details. “Where's June?” She diverts the topic.

However, it's a legitimate question to ask, since the boy constantly follows Jimin around like a lovesick puppy, and usually, stays for the night.

“He had some family business to attend,” Jimin replies, and there's an edge to her voice that clearly warns Jennie not to pursue the topic. “Go take a shower. You reek of alcohol and sweat.”

“Fuck you,” Jennie mutters, but leaves the couch and goes to the bathroom, since she does feel gross.

The hot shower clears the fog away from her mind and alleviates her sore muscles.

She tries not to think that she's alone with Jimin. It shouldn't be a big deal. They're friends, even if it doesn't feel that way. The thinly veiled mistrust may go unnoticed by the others, but to Jennie, it's as obvious as Jimin's hatred for the soccer team.

Which makes her wonder, if Jimin doesn't trust her, then why she not only took her under her wing, but went as far as to turn her into her right hand?

Jennie vividly remembers the day when a blond girl in a flannel shirt and a duffel bag slung over her shoulder bumped into her on the school corridor. The words 'fucking dyke' left Jennie's mouth before she could even register their meaning.

Jimin caught it. Jimin liked it.

But Jennie didn't believe her high position in Jimin's 'ranks' was achieved thanks to 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' strategy. After all, Seolhyun, Chanmi and Mina, all held the same opinions.

So why Jimin has chosen her? When she clearly observers her every step with a little more attention, with a little more curiosity, with a little more suspicion.

A knock on the door startles her out of her thoughts and she turns off the water.

“Be a bit more mindful of the environment, Jen.” Jimin's voice comes muffled through the door.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Jennie says and steps out of the shower.

The mirror above the sink is fogged up, but she doesn't wipe it.

(She doesn't want to reflect on her own motivations behind joining Jimin's group.)

The rest of the morning goes by rather uneventful. Jimin tells her to make herself a breakfast if she wants to and she does. Peanut butter and jelly, something she would never suspect to find in Jimin's cupboard.

She says her goodbyes, after she's finished with washing the dishes, and Jimin's reply catches her off guard.

“Be careful, Jen,” the girl says, leaning against the door's frame. “We wouldn't want your face to share the fate of your hands.”

Jennie stares at her, wondering why her skin covers with goosebumps, all of a sudden.

“See you at school,” the girl adds, smiling and closes the door.

Shoving her hands to the pockets of her jacket, Jennie turns around and leaves.

Glad that this morning is finally over.

* * *

Lisa hates Sundays.

It's the most boring day of the week, and not only because it's the 'no soccer day', but because Sundays always follow the same path of monotonous events.

It starts with a visit to the church.

Dressed in their formal clothes, Lisa and her parents always take the same seat in the same row. And for the next hour, Lisa fights the urge to doze off as the old preacher drones from the pulpit.

(To his credit, the sermons aren't that bad.

It's just his serene voice that puts Lisa to sleep.)

After the mass is over, they stop outside the church for a mandatory chat with her father's colleagues. Lawyers, prosecutors, judges. Lisa is expected to smile and nod during those, just like her mother, and so she does.

Back at home, Lisa helps her mother with the dinner. They eat it in silence until the dessert when her father begins to interrogate her about school, grades and homeworks. After that she is dismissed to her room where she is expected to study till the evening.

(Her father checks on her every hour.)

Today, however, something changes as Lisa finally plucks up enough courage to question her parents about their absence at the Friday match.

“We've won the game on Friday,” she blurts out when her mother places a bowl with ice-cream in front of her. “I scored three goals.”

Both of her parents look visibly caught off guard by the confession. She knows it's not because they are impressed, but because it's not a topic they would discuss over their Sunday dessert. In fact, it's not a topic they would ever discuss.

Her mother is first to overcome her shock.

“Congratulations, honey,” she says, lips stretched in a forced smile.

“You've promised you would come to watch,” Lisa mumbles with reproach, gaze focused on the melting ice-cream.

“We were busy,” her father states curtly.

He's a sturdy man with sternness inscribed onto the sharp edges of his face.

“No you weren't,” Lisa counters quietly, and in an instant, her father's cold eyes are on her.

“Have you looked through the leaflets I gave you?” he questions, and Lisa knows she has lost again.

“Not yet.” She swallows a mouthful of ice-cream, and the conversation ends there, never resolved.

After that disastrous dessert, Lisa goes upstairs to her room. The leaflets from various law schools litter her desk. She frowns at the sight, collects them all and shoves them to the bottom of her desk's drawer.

A frustrated sigh escapes her lips, and she runs her slender fingers through her hair. She wants to go out and play soccer with Chaeyoung and Jisoo, but she knows it's not an option.

Her father let her join the soccer team provided she keeps straight As at school. And so, reluctantly, she takes out her books from the backpack that lies stranded beside the bed.

As she reads about battles that changed the world's history and cracks her brain over intricate mathematical equations, her feet don't stop playing with the ball that she has hidden under the desk.

* * *

“How was your weekend?” Lisa asks, passing the ball to Chaeyoung as they leisurely stroll toward the school building.

“Ugh, don't ask,” Chaeyoung groans. “We visited my aunt on Sunday, and I had to keep company to her two little boys.”

“I thought you liked children?”

“Children? Yes. Spawns of Satan? Not so much.”

“Was it that bad?” Lisa chuckles, but Chaeyoung looks rather despondent as she replies:

“One of them flung a cat at me, and I almost knocked an urn with my grandpa's ashes off the mantelpiece as I tried hard to keep Mr. Meowgi's claws away from my precious face.”

Lisa doubles over with laughter, imagining the situation, and her kick goes terribly off target. The ball bounces down the schoolyard with Lisa chasing after it. It stops right around the school's corner, under a pair of heavy, black boots.

Slowly, Lisa lifts her gaze from the ball and up the bare legs exposed by a short skirt, takes note of the leather jacket and finally meets a pair of cold, but soft around the edges, eyes.

Lisa stops breathing. Kim Jennie stops chewing her gum.

The sun rays feel warmer than they should at such early hour and the morning air smells of sweet perfumes. A dizzying combination that roots Lisa in her place and bombards her mind with dozens of thoughts.

What is she doing here? Why won't she say anything? Why is she looking at me like this? Oh god, what are these perfumes?

The onslaught of questions continues until she hears faint sobs in the distance.

Her gaze flicks over Jennie's shoulder.

Several girls stand in a circle; one of them throws a punch. Lisa can't see whether it lands, but it must have because the whimpers intensify.

Her gaze drops back to Jennie when the girl takes a step closer to her, crossing arms at her chest. An unspoken threat flashes in her eyes as she lifts her chin defiantly.

And finally Lisa gets it; Jennie is keeping watch.

Somewhere at the back of her mind, Lisa knows this should be the moment when she slowly backs away, arms raised in surrender. But for some reason, her body wants to do the exact opposite and make a step forward.

She isn't sure whether it's because the whimpers increase in volume and clearly someone needs her help, or maybe she just selfishly wants to drown in the vanilla scent that lingers in the air, pulling at her senses.

(She's almost sure it's the latter when Jennie's tongue darts across her bottom lip in a quick swipe.)

Luckily, Chaeyoung shows just in time to save her from whatever stupid decision she is about to make. The girl scoops the ball from the ground and grabbing Lisa by her arm, drags her away to safety.

Stumbling on her weak legs, Lisa looks over her shoulder.

“Maybe we should tell someone,” she mumbles.

Chaeyoung stops and swivels around, giving Lisa a hard flick against her forehead.

“Are you crazy?”

Lisa rubs the sore spot. “No, but--”

“Goddammit Lisa,” Chaeyoung cuts her off, features sharpening in seriousnesses. “I get it, trust me. But keep in mind that the moment you snitch on Jimin, it's the moment your ass goes flying out of this school. And it doesn't matter how many trophies you've won for this school. It's over for you. The end. Finto. Owari. Capisch?”

Lisa lowers her gaze and vents her frustration on a pebble, kicking it across the schoolyard.

(It shouldn't be like this.

But Chaeyoung is right.

No one can mess with Jimin.)

The school's doorbell signals the beginning of the classes, but neither of them moves, until Chaeyoung throws the ball at Lisa who promptly catches it.

“You know we can't lose our Champ, right?” She reaches out to ruffle her blond hair.

Lisa scrunches her face, giggling.

“Come on,” Chaeyoung says and drapes her arm over Lisa's shoulder. “Let's just forget about them. We're already late for class.”

And together they jog towards the school.

* * *

Jennie can still feel the eyes watching her when she marches towards her friends. They leave a splotchy trail of heat down her chest and twist her stomach into knots. It's absolutely disgusting.

Pushing aside Seolhyun and Chanmi, she steps into the circle and without hesitation kicks the sobbing girl's backpack, sending it flying off her shoulder. Not losing her momentum, she grabs onto the girl's collar and forces her to look her in the eye.

“Don't you dare looking at him like that again, understood?” she mutters through gritted teeth and on the behalf of Jimin.

(No girl is allowed to look at Jimin's Junhoe.)

The girl nods, whimpering like a cornered animal. And something inside Jennie falters, her palm opening to free the girl.

“Let's go,” Jennie says as she turns to leave. “I think someone saw us.”

(Lisa.

That's her name.

But Jennie avoids mentioning it even in her own thoughts.)

“But we've just started,” Chanmi whines, and Jennie resists the intense urge to punch her.

“Let's go,” Jimin states in her flat yet cold tone that doesn't fail to send an unpleasant chill down Jennie's spine. “I presume Jennie has taught the girl her lesson. No need to push our luck.”

“Oh please, it's not like anyone will tell on us,” Chanmi continues, but her resolve thaws under Jimin's hard look.

The younger girl lowers her gaze meekly and follows her friends as they start walking away.

Mina, however, stays behind for a minute longer.

“Say cheese.”

She giggles and takes a photo of the sobbing girl with her phone.

* * *

Jennie cannot believe this is happening to her.

Unfortunately, the laughter behind her back feels all to real. She shields her flushed face with her palm, glaring at Bobby who kneels before her, blocking the entrance to her class.

“Stand up,” she hisses, but the boy shakes his head vehemently.

“Not until you forgive me.”

Losing her patience, Jennie grabs her boyfriend by his hoodie, hoisting him to his feet and drags him to the women's conveniently unoccupied bathroom.

“Look, Jen. I'm really sorry, okay?” Bobby continues his heartfelt apology. “I acted like a douche.”

Jennie shakes her head, arms folded at her chest as she glares at the boy, thinking what she should do with him.

“Why would you even suggest such game, huh?” she asks, irritated.

“I was drunk, babe. I wasn't thinking straight.”

“Ugh,” Jennie winces at his unfortunate word usage and leans against the sink.

“What?” Bobby seems confused by her reaction, and rightly so.

“Nothing,” she mumbles, directing her gaze to the dirty tiled floor under her feet.

Bobby comes up to her and bends a little to look into her eyes.

“So are we cool?”

Jennie bites the inside of her cheek.

She could end this right here, right now. It's a feeble reason, but they are just kids in high-school, and she has seen couples breaking up over dumber things.

But she knows she can't do it.

She needs Bobby.

Desperately.

“Fine, we're cool,” she says, and Bobby's lips break into a goofy smile.

It's infectious, really. And it may just be her favorite part about him. But then he goes in for a kiss, and though it's short and sweet, it robs Jennie of all the comfort his smile gave her.

She wishes he would stop running his coarse palm up and down her bare arm, but remains silent about it, smile not faltering.

“Wanna drop by my place after school? My parents are out of the city,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Jennie resists a sudden urge to cringe.

“Sorry, I can't,” she says. “I'm busy today.”

Bobby's shoulders slump and he steps aside. “With what?”

“I have to help my mother prepare a birthday party for my aunt.”

(She has learned to always have an excuse prepared in advance to sound more believable.)

“So? Just sneak from the house like you always do.” Bobby's voice is full of reproach and so are his sharp features pulled in a frown.

A tiny voice at the back of Jennie's mind reminds her that excuses won't work forever.

“I really can't,” she moves closer to him, looking him in the eye as she promises in a husky murmur, “We'll meet next time, okay?”

But Bobby's expressions remains sour.

“Yeah, whatever,” her grumbles, shoving hands to the pockets of his hoodie, and leaves the bathroom.

* * *

After her conversation with Bobby, Jennie is plagued by restlessness and doubts.

She's running out of excuses. He's clearly running out of patience. And Chanmi isn't helping with her constant questioning about whether they've finally 'done the deed', as she puts it - a strangely subtle term for someone as crude as her.

Jennie swears the girl hates her guts and tolerates her only because she wants to stay loyal to Jimin, which is somewhat disturbing.

(Sometimes Jennie thinks that if Jimin told her to jump off a cliff, the younger girl wouldn't think twice before leaping to her certain death.)

To make matters even worse, Jennie's P.E classes take place during the soccer team's practice time. Meaning, she has to suffer through an hour of listening to the hollow thuds the ball makes every time a player kicks it.

The sound echoes painfully in her head, keeping her senses on high alert.

That is probably why she notices the ball flying straight at Jimin even before she hears the blond girl shout a loud 'watch out!'. And then it's like her body moves on an autopilot. There's no thinking process. No hesitation. No fear. Just pure instinct that controls her every action.

In an instant, she's in front of Jimin, stops the ball with her chest and kicks it back to the blonde, who barely manages to catch it with her both hands.

Heavy silence hangs above the school field as everyone stares at Jennie. Stunned. Confused. Some even impressed (the gaping blonde most surely).

“Nice kick,” Jimin drones from behind her and the gravity of the situation finally registers in Jennie's mind.

Heart hammering against her ribcage, she breaks into a cold sweat.

(Exposed...

She has been exposed...)

But then there are those dark eyes shining with unabashed amazement, and somehow, Jennie finds comfort in them.

“Awfully off target though,” she mutters and glances over her shoulder at Jimin. “I was aiming for her head.”

Jimin bears her pearl white teeth in a smirk. “Of course,” she asserts curtly and then it's her turn to do a long jump.

The soccer team resumes her practice, but Jennie cannot shake the feeling of being observed, yet again.

* * *

“Okay, now this one is for Lisa,” Yuna clears her throat, a glossy teenage magazine spread before her on the cafeteria table. “Aries: don't be afraid of making bold moves. The outcome may be surprisingly positive.”

“That's it?” Chaeyoung cocks an eyebrow, a spoon with pudding stopping mid-way to her mouth.

Yuna nods, unperturbed by her friend's skepticism.

“I could write those things myself, you know?” Chaeyoung snorts, amused. “Like Scorpio: don't be afraid to challenge yourself. It's a great day to start a new hobby.”

“I don't know.” Yuna shrugs. “Usually, it's pretty accurate when it comes to my sign. What about you, Lisa? Lisa? Earth to Lisaaa.”

It's only when Yuna waves her hand in front of the blonde's eyes that the girl finally registers someone calling for her attention.

“Hm? Were you saying something?”

“And here I thought only Jisoo was sleeping at this table,” Chaeyoung chuckles, pointing her chin towards their dozing friend. “Have you spent the whole night playing Overwatch as well?”

“What? No,” Lisa mutters distractedly, eyes fixed on the table beside the window where Jennie sits with her friends and her boyfriend.

“Gee, your horoscope should read something along the lines: stay focused and don't ignore your friends, unless you want to hurt their feelings,” Chaeyoung snarks, but Lisa tunes her out because Jennie is leaving her table and she sees her chance in that.

“I'll be right back,” she says as she hurriedly stands up from her chair.

“Where are you going? Hey! Wait! Lisa!”

Ignoring Chaeyoung's calls for her, Lisa makes her way through the bustling cafeteria, eyes trained on Jennie's small frame. Once they find themselves on the empty corridor, Lisa runs up to the girl and gently touches her shoulder.

Jennie swivels around, almost stumbling, and spears Lisa with a questioning glare.

For a moment, the blonde is left speechless, Jennie's eyes are intense enough to knock the air out of her lungs, and she starts to wonder just what the hell she is doing.

But then there's again that nervous tongue darting to wet Jennie's lips, working like a switch that grounds Lisa back into reality.

“Uhm, so that kick back then was pretty awesome,” Lisa says, cringing at how lame she sounds, but continues anyway. “We're looking for a temporary midfielder, since Hyunjin twisted her ankle and Siyeon is down with a stomach flu. Anyway, I thought that maybe you'd like to give it a go in the tryouts, tomorrow?”

Jennie blinks, one eyebrow arching slightly.

“Get lost,” she says, voice strained, simmering with barely held back emotions whose nature Lisa can't quite define.

It may be rage, but something tells Lisa it's not just that.

“But--”

“Get lost before I lose my patience,” the brunette cuts her off sharply, and Lisa notices how her fists tremble by her sides.

“Come on,” Chaeyoung chimes in from behind Lisa and taking her by the shoulders, leads her around the nearest corner.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, Lisa?!” Chaeyoung scolds her in a stern whisper. “It's the second time I save your ass today. I swear to god I'm not doing this again. Do you really hate your face so much that you want Kim Jennie to remodel it for you with her fists, hm?”

“She wouldn't do that,” Lisa retorts, slowly getting fed up with her friend's constant lecturing. “Stop talking like you know her.”

Chaeyoung makes a gesture with her hands as if she wants to strangle Lisa but in the end decides against it. She lowers her palms and exhales noisily through her nose.

“What did you want from her, anyway?” she asks in a much calmer tone.

“You saw what she did during the practice, right? Someone who had never played soccer before wouldn't perform such a kick,” Lisa reasons, gushing with a grin. “So I just thought she could be our midfielder.”

“Oh yeah, that makes total sense,” Chaeyoung says, but Lisa can tell she's being sarcastic and her next words confirm her suspicions. “Except it doesn't because she fucking hates soccer!”

A momentary silence falls between them as Lisa cannot find a satisfactory come back.

Chaeyoung's gaze softens during that pause and she's first to speak up:

“Look, I get it, she's hot.”

Lisa rolls her eyes, flushing slightly. "It's not like that.”

(It really isn't.

Or maybe it is?

She doesn't know anymore.)

“Hey, you can't fool me, Champ.” Chaeyoung nudges her shoulder playfully. “I know you since kindergarten, and I know it may be shocking but to tell you the truth, I knew you were gay since like sixth grade. Those looks you were giving Yeri? Yeah, not the most subtle ones.”

Lisa lets out a defeated groan, closing her eyes as she leans against the wall behind her.

“But Jennie? She's a case of real bad trouble. You should stay away from her for your own good,” Chaeyoung says with a distinct note of sympathy in her voice.

Lisa looks at her, lips pursed in a sad pout.

“Ohhh, don't give me that sad face, Champ. We gonna find you a girl. A bad one that's actually nice. Since apparently, that's your type.”

Lisa barks out a chuckle but doesn't protest.

“And we need to tell Yuna to stop reading those stupid horoscopes,” Chaeyoung adds and they both laugh at that.

(Lisa doesn't mention that she wasn't listening when Yuna was reading her horoscope.)

* * *

Jennie barges into her own room, drops the backpack by the door, and throws herself onto the bed. A string of curses leaving her mouth, muffled by the pillow.

She hates this day, hates her life, but most importantly, she hates her...

(For making her kick that fucking ball.

For asking that idiotic question.

And for leaving her mind reeling with disgust.)

She begins to regret that she refused to go to Bobby's place. Maybe he would actually make her feel a bit better about herself.

(A bit more normal...)

But at the same time, she knows he wouldn't be able to do it. There's only one thing that could lift her mood, right now. It lies right under her bed in the yellow box, which reminds her that she needs to get rid of it.

She jumps off the bed and takes the box from underneath it. Carefully, she makes her way down the stairs so as not to alarm her parents, who are watching some soccer match on the TV.

Outside the house, she drops the box into a trash bin. However, a single photo flies out of it and she catches it on instinct, immediately regretting that one careless action.

There are eleven girls smiling at her, tired but proud as they stand beside a golden trophy. She turns the photo around and stares at the elegant letters saying:

_New Zealand's Junior Soccer Champions_

And in the bottom right corner a slightly smaller:

_For Nini, the MVP of my life_

_Your Cap_

_04.06.2011, Wellington_

Jennie covers her mouth, stifles a sob that shakes her entire body and sits down on a curb. Tears begin to stream down her cheeks, wetting the concrete under her feet, as she no longer finds strength inside her to fight them.

The memories of happy days when everything was so easy and simple flood her mind, sending ripples of guilt and regret through her heart.

(She misses them.

She misses playing.

And although she doesn't want to admit, she misses her as well.)

She doesn't know how long has she has been crying, but when she stops and stands up from the curb, the sun is already sinking behind the horizon and the cold breeze leaves a trail of goosebumps down her bare arms.

She comes up to the trash bin, takes out the yellow box and brings it back to her room. Lifting its lid, she reveals dozens of gold medals and a stash of photos. Beneath it, lies a deflated, black and white ball.

Gingerly, Jennie takes the ball out of the box and goes to the garage where she pumps it back to its orb shape.

Two streets away from her home, there's an abandoned old tennis court. One of the courts has a wall for practicing squash. It's a perfect place, quiet and secluded.

She places the ball on the concrete and takes a few steps back. Her heart thundering in her chest like that time during the finals in 2011 when she had to score the last penalty so that her team would win the match.

It's ridiculous and pathetic because here, it's just a stupid wall and an empty tennis court, but she tunes out all those negative thoughts, jogs to the ball, swings her leg and kicks it. And as the ball bounces back, she kicks it again. And again, and again.

And with each kick, she feels something break inside her. With each kick, the smile on her face grows wider.

Jimin. Chanmi. Bobby. They all cease to exist. No one controls her. She's free, again.

High on adrenaline, Jennie puts a bit too much strength into her kick and the ball escapes her. She turns around to run after it but freezes in place, smile fading from her lips.

Standing silently with a ball in her hands, Lisa blinks her large eyes at Jennie for the third time this day...

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out longer than I expected, but I hope it's okay. Thank you for all the subs and comments! I cherish them all so keep them coming!


	3. Just One Letter

Jennie wants to scream, lash out at the blonde, telling her to stop ruining everything.  
  
But that would be just silly, wouldn't it?  
  
So instead, she does what she does best - walks away, wincing internally at the clacking sound her soccer shoes make against the concrete.  
  
She doesn't go far though, because the blonde blocks her way. And as much as Jennie wants to just shove her away, she simply cannot bring herself to touch the other girl. Afraid her body would react with another wave of nauseous heat at the contact.  
  
“Please don't go,” the girl says, her resolute eyes looking straight into Jennie's. “I promise I won't tell anyone.”  
  
Jennie scoffs, giving the blonde her meanest look. “Of course you won't, unless you want me to break these precious legs of yours.”  
  
The girl frowns and Jennie can tell she doesn't believe her one bit. No wonder. It's a ridiculous threat. Besides, the girl wouldn't go without a fight, most surely. And Jennie isn't convinced she would come out on top if it came down to that.  
  
(The whole scenario sends a revolting shiver down her spine.)  
  
“Move,” she utters through clenched teeth, but the stubborn girl doesn't even budge.  
  
“We could play here together,” she mumbles, sounding almost desperate.“No one would know. It's not like I'm supposed to be here either.”  
  
Jennie's eyebrows furrow in curiosity. She wonders what the girl means by her last words but doesn't inquire.  
  
“No,” she states curtly.  
  
The girl's shoulders slump, lips forming a sad pout as her gaze escapes to the starless sky above them.  
  
“Fine,” she sighs. “Then I'll leave, but you stay here and keep doing what you were doing.”  
  
She makes a cautious step backwards, but Jennie uses that moment to just walk briskly past her.  
  
“Hey! You forgot your ball!”  
  
Jennie hears the blonde holler behind her but doesn't stop her march. Seconds later her ball flies above her head, landing some distance away in front of her.  
  
Glancing over her shoulder, Jennie sees that the girl is already focused on practicing her shots, and so, she scoops the ball onto her foot and into her arms.  
  
Then she runs, stopping only when she reaches her home.  
  
(She cannot sleep that night.  
  
Plagued by the images of blond hair fluttering in the nightly air.)  
  


* * *

_Kim Jennie plays soccer._  
  
“Lisa!” Jisoo shouts, forcing Lisa to focus back on the game.  
  
The striker blinks away her unfocused gaze, but it's too late. Momo breezes past her, easily whisking the ball away from under her unmoving feet. Jisoo shakes her head in disappointment and waves Lisa off when the girl mouths her apology.  
  
Minutes later, their P.E teacher and coach signals the end of practice. Before she rounds them up and discusses the strategy for the upcoming match, she gives them a few minutes of break.  
  
Lying down on the grass, Lisa basks in the warm glow of the spring sun until a shadow looms over her. Chaeyoung throws a bottle with cold water to her and she catches it, sitting up.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Lisa downs the drink greedily while Chaeyoung plops next to her.  
  
“What?” the blonde asks once the bottle is dry and her friend's eyes are still on her.  
  
“Everything okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Lisa mutters, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  
  
“Girls are worried. They've never seen you so out of it,” Chaeyoung states quietly. “Something happened at home? Is it about your dad talking about law schools again?”  
  
Lisa shakes her head, fiddling with the bottle's cap. She wonders whether she should tell Chaeyoung what she saw yesterday.  
  
For as long as their friendship lasts, they've never kept any secrets from each other. Even the matter of Lisa's sexual orientation wasn't as much of a secret as it was just Lisa not being entirely sure of it and waiting for the right moment to tell her friend.  
  
What happened yesterday, however, was something else entirely. She promised Jennie she wouldn't tell anyone, and she never was the type to break her promises. Best friends or not, the events of that evening stay just between her and the brunette.  
  
“I'm fine Chaeng,” Lisa finally breaks the silence and puts on her best smile. “Just stressing over the match. Plus, I haven't got much sleep. I probably shouldn't have watched those cat videos till late at night.”  
  
(Jennie reminds her of a cat.  
  
A stray, mistrustful kind that hisses at you when you approach it, before fleeing to its hideout.)  
  
Chaeyoung snorts a laugh and pokes her cheek. “Told you to cut down on those.”  
  
Lisa swats away her palm and falls back onto the ground, closing her eyes.  
  
“And don't worry about the match. I'm sure we'll win.”  
  
Lisa hums her approval, but her mind is already on a different path.  
  
No matter how hard she tries to keep her thoughts about Jennie at bay, her mind stubbornly keeps returning to the events from the yesterday's evening.  
  
She's not sure she believes in fate. Unlike Yuna, who keeps reading those horoscopes, she never gave the concept much thought. But there was certainly something _special_ , for the lack of a better word, about that evening.  
  
Not only had she sneaked out of the house for the first time in her life, but also happened to see Kim Jennie kick a ball while donning a pair of sleek red soccer shoes (that must have cost her a small fortune).  
  
Lisa could tell the girl wasn't new to the game. Just like she knew that kick back then during the P.E class wasn't just amateur's luck. Jennie's posture coupled with the precision and strength behind her shots, it all suggested that she must have trained soccer at some point in her life.  
  
But if so, then why she hasn't joined their school's team? Why she hangs out with Jimin? None of this makes sense. It's almost as if that evening was just a very bizarre lucid dream.  
  
Except it wasn't.  
  
And now all Lisa can think of is how to convince Jennie to play with her in that secluded place under the cover of the night.  
  
The easiest way would be just to go and talk to her. But that strategy proved fruitless twice already. Apparently, Kim Jennie isn't much of a talker.  
  
A soft nudge to her shoulder interrupts Lisa's thoughts. She squints her eyes, watching Chaeyoung as she dusts off her yellow shorts.  
  
“The nap is over, Champ. Coach is calling us,” her friend informs and jogs towards their teammates who gather in a circle around their teacher.  
  
Groaning inwardly, Lisa stands up from the ground and joins the team soon after.  
  
She tries her best to stay focused and listen to their coach as she goes over the strategy for their upcoming match. But the truth is attentiveness has never been her forte. That's why her mind soon replaces the 'pressing play' for plans on 'how to make Kim Jennie play again'.  
  
(Why she cares so much?  
  
She isn't sure.  
  
But it may have something to do with that cute smile that lit up Jennie's features that evening.)  
  


* * *

The solution comes to Lisa unexpectedly during a particularly boring history lesson, which nonetheless, gives her the most brilliant and simplest idea.  
  
A letter - an old mean of communication nearly forgotten in today's day and age but still perfect for indirect confessions.  
  
She could write Jennie a letter, leave it in the girl's locker, and what happens next is entirely up to the brunette. She may take her up on the offer, or simply ignore it.  
  
(Somehow Lisa doesn't want to believe that the outcome may be much worse than that.  
  
Like her ending up with a black eye and a bleeding nose.  
  
Maybe it's naive, but unlike Chaeyoung, she thinks that Jennie is all bark and no bite.)  
  
Having decided on a plan, Lisa rips a sheet of paper from her notebook and ponders on what she should write. Something short and straight to the point should do the trick. Jennie probably won't have patience for anything longer than two sentences.  
  
She begins to scribble and once she's satisfied with the final outcome, she politely asks the teacher whether she can leave to use the toilet.  
  
Chaeyoung slants her a questioning glance, but Lisa ignores her and hurries out of the classroom after the graying man grants her his permission to leave.  
  
But instead to the toilet, Lisa runs to the second floor and easily finds Jennie's locker.  
  
(The brunette has a habit of leaning against it during the breaks while talking to her boyfriend.  
  
Lisa have seen the picture enough times to have it committed to her memory.)  
  
Without hesitation, she slips the folded piece of paper inside the locker and walks back to the classroom.  
  
Now all that's left is to wait, which is easier said than done.  
  
At some point during the lesson, Chaeyoung asks her (in a stage whisper, although Lisa is pretty sure the teacher is half deaf) whether she has developed some kind of OCD with the way she keeps checking the time on her phone, every five seconds.  
  
Lisa doesn't really know what to say and settles for a sheepish grin.  
  
Chaeyoung sighs, shaking her head and muttering something that sounds awfully similar to a 'weirdo'.  
  


* * *

Jennie clicks her pen in quick successions, counting down minutes to the last bell.  
  
The day has turned out surprisingly okay, despite her initial fears of being followed by judging stares and snide remarks.  
  
For some unfathomable reason, the story of her yesterday's P.E incident hasn't become the most discussed topic at school. And more importantly, it hasn't reached Chanmi, Mina or Seolhyun. Apparently, Jimin hasn't shared that one with them.  
  
But the fact doesn't completely rid Jennie of the uneasiness that squeezes her chest.  
  
Because what if Jimin just waits for the right moment to reveal it? To use it against her? Jennie isn't stupid; she knows the girl won't let it go so easily.  
  
As for the other girl who knows her secret, she's not that much concerned about her. The blonde promised she wouldn't tell anyone, and although Jennie knows little to nothing about her, she believes her.  
  
(She's like Jimin's complete opposite.  
  
Her warm eyes and smile seemingly incapable of lying.)  
  
The final bell rings, snapping Jennie out of her thoughts. She gathers her stuff, leaves the classroom and heads for the lockers. As she opens the metal door, an unfamiliar piece of paper catches her attention.  
  
She picks it up, half-expecting it to be some blackmail letter from Jimin (although that wouldn't be her style), but instead she's met with a neat handwriting saying: _In case you've changed your mind, I'll be waiting at eight in the same spot – L._  
  
“What's that?”  
  
Startled by the sudden voice behind her, Jennie shoves the piece of paper back to her locker and shuts its door. Turning around, she faces Seolhyun's curious and amused stare. The long-haired girl towering above her similarly to how the blonde did it yesterday.  
  
“Nothing,” Jennie mutters, adjusting the strap of her backpack.  
  
“A love letter from Bobby?” Seolhyun teases. “You're lucky to have such a romantic guy,” she sighs dreamily, leaning against the lockers.  
  
Jennie offers a lopsided smile as a reply.  
  
(She almost wants to tell the girl she can have him if she wants.)  
  
“Anyway, we're hanging at June's place after school. Jimin sent me to ask whether you'll joins us.”  
  
For a split second, Jennie's thoughts flicker to the note in her locker, but she quickly discards them. No way in hell is she going there again. That blonde girl is clearly out of her mind.  
  
“Sure,” she answers coolly.  
  
Seolhyun makes a tiny elated clap with her palms.  
  
“Great. See you later then.” The girl twirls around and walks away, leaving Jennie alone.  
  
“Yeah, see you.”  
  
After Seolhyun leaves, Jennie makes sure no one observes her anymore. Then she opens the locker and takes out the piece of paper again.  
  
She hasn't noticed it the first time, but at the bottom right corner, there's a drawing of a sitting cat. Its back turned to Jennie and it seems to be waiting for something, or someone, perhaps.  
  
Jennie frowns. A sense of deja vu hangs in the air around her, squeezing her chest and clenching her jaw.  
  
(She also wrote her letters.  
  
Long and short ones.  
  
Jennie burnt them all.)  
  
She crumples the paper in her palm and throws it to the bottom of her locker.  
  


* * *

Hanging out at June's place means the usual - playing pool in his basement and drinking beer. Jennie would be probably bored out of her mind if not for Hanbin losing pretty badly to Chanmi. For the third time in a row.  
  
He's a sore loser and it's entertaining to watch him throw a fit every time he misses and the younger girl scores.  
  
“Just give it up already. You can't beat her.” Bobby chortles after his friend loses another round and instantly asks for a rematch.  
  
Sitting beside him on a worn out couch, Jennie lets out a chuckle. Mina's phone camera zooming on her for a moment before it focuses on June.  
  
“I'm starting to wonder whether you understand the rules of this game.”  
  
Hanbin looks like he's about to snap, but whatever nasty comeback he has prepared, it's exchanged for another plea.  
  
“One last rematch. I swear.”  
  
Chanmi shrugs, acting all smug and nonchalant, but then Jimin cuts in:  
  
“How about someone else plays now? Jennie? Want to give it a try?” She smiles languidly at Jennie from the opposite end of the couch, huddled under June's protective arm.  
  
“Me? No, thanks,” Jennie declines easily.  
  
She doesn't feel like being in the center of attention. Not now, not ever.  
  
“Why? I bet you're a natural, just like our Chanmi.”  
  
In her peripheral vision, Jennie catches a glimpse of Chanmi's wry face. She isn't sure whether the rest has noticed it, but the younger girl obviously hates it whenever Jimin compares them to each other.  
  
“Aren't you just full of hidden talents, Jen?” Jimin asks, making Jennie's guts twist in sudden dread.  
  
Staring at the smiling girl, Jennie wants to ask her what does she mean by that, but at the same time, she knows exactly to what she's alluding. Her predictions were correct. Jimin was just waiting for the right moment to drop the bomb.  
  
But despite somewhat knowing it would eventually happen, Jennie doesn't have any comeback prepared. She feels like this is it. This is the moment when her carefully crafted facade is going to crumble apart under the malice of her 'supposed' friend.  
  
But then Bobby decides to make another one of his asinine comments.  
  
“You bet she's full of hidden talents. If you know what I mean,” he intones in a suggestive manner, grinning at Jennie.  
  
She frowns at him, having no idea what he means. It's like he just used the opportunity to vaguely hint at something that never happened. Regardless, June and Hanbin seem to have fallen for that as they both wolf-whistle idiotically.  
  
Jennie would be pissed if not for the fact that their reaction successfully diverts everyone's attention from Jimin and her cryptic question. The girl, however, still observes Jennie while sipping her beer. And the message in her eyes is clear - she's letting Jennie off the hook this time.  
  
(For how long though?  
  
That remains a vexing mystery to Jennie.)  
  


* * *

After witnessing Hanbin lose another round, they finally decide to leave the murky basement and spend some time in June's backyard.  
  
Jennie walks up the stairs that lead out of the basement when she feels Bobby's hand wrap around her wrist stopping her.  
  
She shoots him a questioning look over her shoulder. But the boy puts a finger to his pouty lips and points the couch behind them with his head.  
  
Jennie bites the inside of her cheek.  
  
(She knows what he means.  
  
And what he wants.)  
  
An excuse about not feeling well is already on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it.  
  
She has been postponing these kind of situations for far too long already.  
  
(He may go whining to June and Hanbin.  
  
Then the girls will find out.  
  
They will start to talk.  
  
And suspect things.)  
  
Giving a small nod, Jennie follows Bobby to the couch once their friends leave to the backyard. Seolhyun closing the door as the last one. Jennie thinks she saw her wink but isn't sure.  
  
Bobby sits down on the couch and she straddles his hips, glad she has chosen jeans over a skirt.  
  
They start to kiss. Without any prelude of soft touches and loving stares. It's not rough, but not gentle either. Jennie tastes the bitter flavor of alcohol on his tongue, and it takes all her willpower not to flinch when his hands slip under her t-shirt.  
  
She tries to get some sort of pleasure out of his touch - convince herself that this is what she wants.  
  
But all this thinking makes it actually harder for her to get into the situation, and it almost becomes an out of body experience for her. She's there physically, kissing him and allowing him to touch her, but her mind is elsewhere.  
  
(Back in New Zealand.  
  
In the locker room after practice.  
  
Where it all began and ended.)  
  
His hands feel rough against her cold skin, and as they descend onto the zipper of her jeans, panic shoots through her rigid body.  
  
“Bobby, stop,” she mutters, breaking the kiss.  
  
“Don't worry. They won't come looking for us,” he mumbles against her neck and continues to work on her jeans, popping their button.  
  
“What the fuck, Bobby?”  
  
Jennie pushes away his palms and leaves his lap.  
  
“I told you to stop,” she yells, fingers trembling as she zips back her jeans.  
  
“Relax babe.” The boy tries to placate her, reaching out to touch her arms.  
  
But Jennie flinches and takes a step back. Her vision turns hazy, and before she realizes, tears are staining her cheeks.  
  
Bobby sighs, running fingers through his messy hair.  
  
“Jen, I'm sorry,” he says in a gentle voice. “You know I would never hurt you, right?”  
  
Jennie draws in a shaky breath, not sure what she's supposed to say.  
  
The lie her mind tells her? Or the truth her trembling body whispers?  
  
“I should be going home,” she finally mutters and heads for the stairs.  
  
“Jennie, wait.” Bobby stands up from the couch, but it only makes Jennie hasten her steps.  
  
“Tell Jimin I wasn't feeling well,” she says, not looking back as she leaves the basement.  
  


* * *

Jennie hoped the evening breeze would calm her nerves.  
  
But fifteen minutes into her march, she still feels her body thrum with anxiety as she wraps her arms around herself and hangs her head low. Frantic eyes throwing glances at each passing stranger.  
  
And the farther she is from June's home, the bigger the guilt inside her mind grows, telling her that she shouldn't have overreacted like that.  
  
Nothing really happened. They were just fooling around. Besides, he said he wouldn't hurt her. Right?  
  
She could at least join the rest in the backyard. But now it's too late. And Jimin will file this incident as another suspicious and odd thing about Kim Jennie.  
  
In times like these she begins to wonder why she even bothers hanging out with them.  
  
A horn blasts and she jumps to the side.  
  
Frozen in her spot, Jennie stares after the car as it drives away into distance. Somewhere at the back, there's that thought telling her that it wouldn't be so bad if the car had hit her.  
  
She quickly shakes off the morbid idea and continues her walk.  
  
She needs to go somewhere when she will be alone, not surrounded by people's prying eyes.  
  
(They are all like vultures, flocking around their prey and watching as it shuffles through the desert on the brink of exhaustion.  
  
One stumble and they will tear her into pieces.)  
  
She's not sure how she ended up in the abandoned tennis court. It's like her feet gained a mind of their own.  
  
In the distance, she can hear the distinct sound of the ball hitting the wall.  
  
Like in a hypnotic trance, Jennie walks toward the sound, although her mind screams for her to go back. Turn around and run. Because the only thing worse than the eyes filled with judgment are those which make her stumble and fall.  
  
(Disarming.  
  
Enchanting.  
  
Absolutely abominable.)  
  
“You came.”  
  
The blonde stares at her, a smile of sheer happiness curling her lips.  
  
“I didn't think you would.”  
  
“Yeah, well, me neither," Jennie deadpans, averting her gaze to the listless ball under the girl's feet.  
  
Her fists clench as pent up frustration rises within her chest and leaves her shaking again.  
  
And then the blonde passes the ball to her, as if she knows, as if she somehow understands. Even though, Jennie herself doesn't quite get it.  
  
(Is she mad at Bobby?  
  
At the blonde?  
  
Or just at herself?)  
  
Jennie rushes at the ball and kicks it, silencing the unanswered questions. With each hit, the flecks of paint chip away from the wall just like the layers of anger that cover her heart and mind. Caught up in the moment, Jennie doesn't even realize that she's actually playing with the blonde as they take alternate shots at the wall. There's even a hint of competitiveness in these curved balls that are a bit harder to chase after.  
  
And as the game prolongs, the blonde becomes more and more talkative, not at all bothered by Jennie's silence.  
  
“Ooh, that was a good one.”  
  
“Niiiice!”  
  
“Okay, you have to teach me that.”  
  
Jennie cannot decide whether her constant rambling is annoying or amusing. Maybe a bit of both, if that's even possible.  
  
The game has no winners nor losers as they both succumb to exhaustion and make no moves to chase the ball, after it strays into the bushes. Breathless and sweaty, Jennie sits cross-legged on the cold concrete and stares at the dark sky stretching above them.  
  
“Why the sky above Seoul is always starless?” she voices her thoughts aloud.  
  
“I don't know. Pollution?”  
  
Jennie glances at the blonde, who sits beside her, wondering just how in the world they ended up in this situation.  
  
“Yeah, probably,” she mutters, returning her gaze to the sky. “This doesn't mean we are friends,” she adds as an afterthought.  
  
“Oh...”  
  
The girl sounds utterly devastated, but Jennie chooses to ignore it.  
  
“Will you come here tomorrow?”  
  
Jennie's tongue darts to wet her bottom lip as she ponders on her answer.  
  
She shouldn't come here. She knows this. But at the same time, she doesn't remember when was the last time she had so much fun.  
  
(That's a lie.  
  
She remembers.  
  
Vividly.  
  
Just like she remembers all the letters she received.)  
  
“Maybe,” she murmurs, more to herself than to the girl.  
  
“I will.”  
  
The odd determination in the blonde's voice catches Jennie off guard. She looks at her and there's that smile again, wide and content, even despite no promises were made.  
  
“Wha-t? Do I have something on my face?” the girl stammers as she palms at her mouth and cheeks in an attempt to wipe away whatever invisible dirt she has there.  
  
Jennie blinks, realizing she has been staring at the girl's face for an unnecessarily long time.  
  
“I should be going. It's late already.”  
  
She stands up from the ground and dusts off her jeans.  
  
“Oh, by the way,” the blonde speaks up as she mimics Jennie's action. “I'm Lalisa, but everyone calls me Lisa. Not just my friends, like literally, everyone. So you can call me Lisa, too.”  
  
Jennie snorts a chuckle because frankly, it's difficult. Difficult to remain cold and impassive in the face of Lisa's silly smile and unnecessarily long introduction, which isn't even needed in the first place.  
  
“Jennie. Just Jennie,” she replies curtly.  
  
Lisa's smile widens impossibly and Jennie takes it as her cue to leave.  
  
(She knows she has lost tonight.  
  
To Jimin.  
  
To Lisa.  
  
And to herself.  
  
But if so, then why does she feel like a winner...?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay. I took a short hiatus in July. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter :D


	4. Just One Match

Lisa dashes towards the penalty area, just a step ahead of Momo. She signals Jisoo she's free, and the left midfielder doesn't waste time. She crosses the ball into the box, but it's far from perfect, being delivered behind Lisa's back.

The blonde, however, doesn't give up. She spins around and leaping into the air, strikes a powerful overhead kick. Caught off guard, Nayoung doesn't even flinch as the ball flies past her and into the net.

Using her arms to diminish the impact of the fall, Lisa lands on the ground gracefully. The blue sky stretching above her reminds her of the yesterday's evening. A strange flutter settles in her stomach, and she grins.

_Jennie. Just Jennie..._

“That was freaking awesome!”

Jisoo's excited voice reaches Lisa's ears. Soon enough the midfielder is above her, reaching a hand to help her stand up.

“Thanks.” Lisa grins, wincing at the slight pain in her back.

“Lalisa!” Their coach's shrill voice sounds decidedly less impressed when she calls Lisa using her full name; it never foreshadows anything good.

Jisoo rolls her eyes. “Whatever she says, don't listen to her. It was totally mind-dropping.”

Lisa snorts a chuckle.

She's pretty sure her friend means mind-blowing. Or maybe jaw-dropping? Anyhow, she doesn'tcorrect her. Jisoo has a habit of coming up with funny expressions. Maybe this is just one of her new inventions. Lisa doubts it will stick. They never do.

“Yo, you even managed to impress Stone Nayoung.” The midfielder nods her chin towards the tall goalkeeper behind them.

Lisa glances over her shoulder at the usually stoic vice-captain, and sure enough there's a smirk curving her lips.

“Next time I'll be prepared,” Nayoung mutters, kicking the ball towards the center of the pitch.

“I hope so,” Lisa tosses over her shoulder and runs to face their coach.

Although young, and quite a stunner with her long dark hair and slim figure, coach Lee can be very intimidating if she wants to.

(But the effect is completely lost on Lisa.

And she begins to suspect that she really does have a thing for long haired, scowling brunettes...)

“What the he--” the coach stops herself, pinching the bridge of her nose, before spearing Lisa with a glare. “What was that, hm?”

“An overhead kick?” Lisa offers sheepishly.

The woman sighs, her ponytail swaying side to side as she shakes her head.

“Do you know just how dangerous an overhead kick can be? You could have seriously injured yourself, Lisa. Break an arm, or worse, damage your spine. Such stunts are reserved only for experienced players. Promise me you won't try it again.”

Lisa frowns.

Sure, she may not be a world class soccer player (at least not yet), but she has been practicing the move for weeks. On a trampoline in her backyard. Plus, she pulled it off perfectly.

“But--!” She wants to argue, but the woman cuts her off easily.

“No buts. Promise, or I won't let you play in the next match.”

Lisa gasps, her eyes wide like saucers.

“Y--You can't do this,” she sputters, outraged. “We play with Daegu Dragons. That may just be the most important match of the season!”

Miss Lee crosses arms at her chest, wholly unaffected by Lisa's childish tantrum when she says, “Try me.”

Lisa's lower lip juts in a pout.

“Fine. I promise,” she mutters sourly and is about to return to her team when the coach calls her again.

“Lisa.”

With shoulders still slumped, the striker turns around, awaiting a reprimand for her bratty behavior unbecoming of her captain position. But to her surprise, Miss Lee's features soften and something akin to adoration flashes in her eyes.

“One day, you'll be unstoppable,” the woman says with a smile.

Hearing those words, Lisa's lips split into a grin, and her chest swells with pride.

“Thanks coach!” she says and not thinking much, runs to the woman to give her a quick hug.

As she realizes what she's doing, a fierce blush covers her cheeks. She quickly lets go of the woman and returns to her teammates.

“Coach Lee, hmm?” Chaeyoung muses when she and Lisa walk towards the locker room.

Lisa frowns. “What about her?”

Chaeyoung's lips quirk up in a teasing smile. “Nothing. It's just I didn't know you were into older women.”

Lisa stops, her mouth hanging ajar, and she can feel the tips of her ears heating up.

“Chaeyoouung,” she whines, shoving her friend away while the girl giggles uncontrollably.

* * *

Jennie always takes a seat in the corner of the classroom by the window. The reason for that is simple, if the class is boring, she can always spend her time looking through the window at whatever is happening outside.

Today that 'whatever' is the soccer team's practice. Which is weird because they used to have trainings during Jennie's biology period, when she's in a different classroom and doesn't have to witness them running around and screaming like a bunch of headless chickens.

Then she reminds herself that they have a match tomorrow. So maybe the practice lasts an hour longer today.

She looks around the classroom and sees that no one seems to be bothered by the fact. Most students either take notes, or doze off. There's no in between. It's a math class, after all. And the only person who could actually notice her is absent today.

Chanmi said Jimin hadn't been feeling well and decided to skip a day. It happens from time to time, almost as if the girl suffered from some strange affliction.

(Jennie suspects she does.

But she's never gonna admit to it.)

Jennie tries to focus on the blackboard, but her eyes keep veering to the side, catching glimpses of the practice match and the unmistakable blonde head.

(The images of yesterday's evening flash in her mind like snippets from an old movie.

A vexing nostalgia grips at her heart.

Because for the first time in years she had felt like herself again.)

Her thoughts dissipate, swept away by the rapid action happening outside the window.

Lisa is fast and agile but too reckless at times. She throws herself headfirst into the action, before trying to create a proper scoring opportunity first. At least, that's how Jennie sees it.

(Because her playstyle is the exact opposite of Jennie's.

She liked to play the game of patience, capitalizing on the mistakes of her opponents and fishing for the free kicks near the penalty area.

Granted, it wasn't the most spectacular style to watch but had a high success rate.

And that was all that mattered.)

Jennie blinks, realizing she has completely abandoned the boring math class for watching the game.

Once again, her wary gaze flits around the classroom, but no one has noticed anything. The earth hasn't spun out of its orbit. And Jimin's seat still remains unoccupied.

Twirling a pencil in her hand, Jennie returns to watching the game.

Lisa throws herself into another mad dash across the middle of the pitch. Her friend on the left wing waits for an opportunity to cross, but when she does, it's delivered slightly behind Lisa's back.

Jennie's pencil stops spinning.

“Don't.. _._ ” a harsh whisper falls from her lips unawarely.

Lisa leaps into the air. Jennie screws her eyes shut.

“ _That was freaking awesome!”_

A voice booms excitedly outside the window.

Jennie cracks one eye open, just enough to see Lisa looking perfectly well and uninjured. With a quiet sigh of relief, she slumps against her chair. The pencil rolls from her palm to the desk, snapped in half.

“Idiot,” she mumbles under her breath, staring at the broken pieces.

(She isn't sure if she refers to Lisa, or herself.)

* * *

“So what did the coach tell you, huh?” Jisoo asks as she puts her tray with food on the table and takes a seat next to Lisa.

“That I'll be unstoppable one day,” the blonde proclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

Chaeyoung scoffs, earning herself a kick under the table. “Hey! Do you want to injure the best defender on the team?”

Momo, who sits beside the redhead, stops chewing her sandwich and frowns.

“Excuse meh?” she mumbles around the food in her mouth, side-eying her fellow defender.

“I mean, best Korean defender, of course,” Chaeyoung rectifies with a smile.

After a brief pondering pause, Momo nods in agreement and resumes her chewing.

“Anyway,” Lisa chimes in and stifles a chuckle because Chaeyoung has just mouthed 'I'm still better' when Momo wasn't looking. “The coach also forbid me to perform overhead kicks.” She pouts, dropping her chin into her palm.

“Wha--t?” Jisoo almost chokes on her chocolate milk. “But I've already came up with a nickname for you, the Flying Lisa.”

“It did look dangerous,” Yuna deadpans behind her glossy magazine. “And according to your horoscope--”

“Hold up,” Chaeyoung cuts her off promptly. Yuna glowers past the rim of her periodical but says nothing. “I'm sure the coach knows what she's doing. And frankly, the Flying Lisa sounds too much like the Flying Dutchman, right Champ?”

But Lisa isn't given a chance to answer when a breathless Hyejeong runs up to them and plops down next to the self-proclaimed best defender on the team. She splays her hands on the table and leans forward, as if she is about to share with them the news of the century.

“You won't believe what I've just heard.”

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. “Is this about some stupid gossip again? Don't you ever get bored of those?”

“No, and no,” Hyejeong retorts, before addressing everyone while smiling like a Cheshire cat. “It's way better than that.”

“Jesus, just spill the grain already.” Jisoo groans impatiently.

“Uhm, I'm pretty sure even Momo knows it's 'spill the beans',” Yuna says, giving Jisoo a look full of concern.

“Why would you spill the beans?” Momo scowls, puzzled. “Beans taste good.”

Lisa chuckles at their Japanese friend. She used to feel the same way and sometimes still do. Idioms are a pain in the ass for the foreigners. Even more so when you have someone like Jisoo around you who keeps messing them up, be it on purpose, or just for fun.

“Never mind. I take that back.” Yuna ducks back behind her magazine with a sigh.

Momo just shrugs.

“Guys, focus!” Hyejeong slams her hands against the table, catching everyone's attention. “Jimin's dad attended yesterday's match. The cameraman even caught him celebrating Kim Jonghyun's goal.”

Chaeyoung arches an eyebrow. “And we care because?”

Hyejeong's jaw slackens in disbelief.

“Are you serious? Don't you find it at least ironic that Jimin's dad likes soccer while his daughter hates it with burning passion?”

Chaeyoung purses her lips and shakes her head. “No, not really.”

“He's a politician.” Yuna makes another offhand remark. “He just want to suck up to his potential voters.”

“Well then, how do you explain the fact that Jimin isn't at school today? I bet she didn't show up out of embarrassment.”

“Or she's just not feeling well?” Lisa suggests and the rest hums their agreements.

Although she's surprised by the news (somehow she thought the hate for soccer was passed down in Jimin's family from generation to generation), she cannot help but to think that Hyejeong reads too much into it. She chalks it up to the girl's flare for the dramatic.

“Ugh, fine,” Hyejeong huffs and leans back in her seat, crossing arms at her chest. “So that may not be such a big news, after all.”

“It's an interesting trivia, I guess?” Jisoo offers as a way of comforting their gossip thirsty midfielder.

Unfortunately, it only makes Hyejeong's whines intensify.

“Literally nothing interesting happened lately!” She throws her arms up in exasperation. “I mean, except that Kim Jennie's kick of the century. Speaking of which, I still don't get it why you told us not to talk about it.” She slants Lisa a resentful look.

The striker blinks, flustered by the sudden change of the topic.

(To be honest, she isn't sure herself why she told her teammates not to talk about the incident with anyone.

Out of some misguided need to protect Jennie's image?

Maybe.)

Chaeyoung must have noticed her struggle to form any kind of coherent response because she quickly answers for her.

“We simply shouldn't get involved with them in any shape or form,” the girl provides, and Lisa communicates her gratefulness through a soft smile.

“Tell that to them,” Hyejeong mutters as she juts her chin towards Chanmi, Seolhyun and Mina who corner some poor first year.

They shove the younger girl away from the bulletin board, sneering at her like a pack of hungry hyenas, and after some pulling and pushing, chase her away from the cafeteria.

As much as the image angers Lisa, she's sort of glad Jennie isn't among the group of bullies.

(Maybe she has changed.

Or maybe she just had some business to attend elsewhere.)

“Seriously, what is their problem?” Jisoo pulls a face like the pudding she eats is past its expiration date.

“They're harassing anyone who wants to sign for the tryouts,” Yuna notices, crumpling the edges of her magazine.

“Shouldn't we do something?” Lisa sweeps her gaze over her teammates.

But they all mumble their excuses while avoiding her searching eyes.

“My horoscope says I should stay out of conflicts, today.”

“I shouldn't fight with full stomach.”

“I'm a pacifist.”

“I don't want to be in the center of their attention.”

“We have a match tomorrow. We should focus on that.” Chaeyoung at least sounds apologetic, but her reply still annoys the hell out of Lisa.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” the blonde says, not hiding her disappointment with her teammates' attitude.

She slings her duffel bag over her shoulder and leaves the cafeteria.

* * *

“Lisa?”

Lisa's father calls out the moment she enters the house.

“Yes, dad?” she asks as she toes her shoes off then ambles to the kitchen where the man is waiting for her.

He points his sharp chin at the chair opposite of his. Lisa's stomach twisting into knots as she sits down.

She tries not to think what her punishment will be if her father saw her yesterday when she sneaked out of the house to play with Jennie. Then she reminds herself that he wasn't even at home at that hour and calms down a bit.

The man leaves his chair and goes to stand behind it, resting his wiry hands on its back rest.

It all feels too much like an interrogation about to happen, and Lisa cannot help but to squirm under his piercing gaze.

“Tomorrow after school, I'm taking you with me to my work,” he states in a voice that allows no room for arguments.

Lisa's eyebrows knit in confusion. “What for?”

“I'll show you how the prosecutor's job looks like. You'll be able to talk with my colleagues about law schools. Maybe they will help you with choosing the right one for you.”

Lisa grips the edge of the table, knuckles turning white.

“But I have a match tomorrow. Can't we do this some other day?” she pleads, knowing that she cannot sound too confrontational, or else her dad will just cut the conversation short.

“I'm sure you can skip one match. Your future is more important than your hobby, Lisa.”

He gives her a pointed look, and she returns it easily. She is his own flesh and blood, after all. And she could argue her case, tell him it's not just a hobby. It's so much more than that. It's her passion. Her dream. Her future.

But he would never understand that. Maybe he would even tell her to quit the team because it has become too much of a distraction from what supposed to be her main goal. That is, to get in a prestigious law school and become a respected prosecutor, or a lawyer.

So she settles for silence, a tacit acceptance of her fate.

However, her rebellious nature refuses full compliance and finds a different way to manifest itself other than in a futile argument. She doesn't leave to her room like she's expected to, but to the corridor where she puts her shoes back on.

“Where are you going?” her father inquires, standing in the kitchen's threshold.

“To Chaeyoung's, she asked me to help her with math.” Lisa meets her father's stern eyes and tries to look indifferent.

(Chaeyoung says she's a bad liar, but maybe that's because she never really has good reasons to lie.

Like she has now.)

Just as her resolve is about to crumble under her father's unblinking gaze, the man gives a curt nod.

“Come back at eight. You cannot neglect your own studies,” he says as he strides through the corridor and into the living room.

Once he disappears, Lisa bolts through the door, grabs the ball from under the staircase and runs to the tennis court.

* * *

When Jennie came to school today, she half expected Bobby to greet her with a bouquet of flowers and a sad pout on his face. Maybe even kneeling beside her locker while waiting for her.

To her surprise, however, no such scene took place.

But they did see each other on the school corridor before the first bell. And it didn't escape Jennie's notice that Bobby looked rather contrite, his posture slumped and smile lackluster. He didn't approach her but acknowledged her presence with a little wave of his hand, before he entered the classroom. Jennie was surprised but glad at the same time, since she planned to avoid him, anyway.

She knows they will have to talk sooner or later. But in this case, she much more prefers the later option.

(The memory of what happened between them in the June's basement still fills her with dread.

Turns her into shuddering mess.

And she doesn't know how to control it.)

With Jimin being absent from school and Bobby not following her, Jennie feels more at ease than ever.

Of course, there's still Chanmi, Seolhyun and Mina who try to drag her into another one of their bullying schemes. But Jennie doesn't even ask them what they are planning to do. She doesn't care. And she easily rebuffs them saying that she needs to pick up some books from the library. They call her a nerd. She gives them the middle finger.

So maybe it's because the day at school turned out so easy and stress-free that she decides to visit the tennis court in the evening, again.

(Other reasons are too scary to even consider them.

All having dark eyes and plush lips.)

When Jennie arrives at the destination, Lisa is already there. Drenched in sweat, she's kicking the ball mercilessly against the wall with such strength that Jennie can almost see the concrete square shaking.

“Are you trying to collapse it?” Jennie asks, but Lisa doesn't even spare her a glance, focused on beating the crap out of the green wall.

And it becomes pretty apparent to Jennie that something is wrong. The violent kicks and the scowl on Lisa's face speak of that kind of frustration Jennie felt when she came to this place for the first time.

So Jennie doesn't say anything and just observes, letting Lisa vent her anger on the wall. It doesn't take long, however, because by the looks of it, Lisa has been getting at it for quite some time already.

She bends forward, rests her hands on her knees and finally looks up at Jennie. Her chest heaving while her tongue darts to wet her chapped lips.

Jennie drops her gaze, swallowing thickly. The air feels hotter than a minute ago, and she thinks that this is exactly why she shouldn't have come here.

(Because her breath hitches in a way that it shouldn't.

And her heart dares to skip a beat.

It's maddening and repulsive.)

“Dad told me to skip the match tomorrow so that he can take me to his job,” Lisa says in between the pants.

Jennie's eyebrows furrow at the sudden confession, and she glances at the girl.

She's not sure why Lisa is telling her this. To be perfectly honest, Jennie didn't even intend to ask what caused her to try and collapse the wall. But maybe Lisa feels somehow compelled to explain herself? Or she just doesn't want them to stand in awkward silence? Whatever the reason, Jennie isn't going to stop her from speaking.

“He thinks it'll help me with choosing the law school,” the blonde continues as she straightens up and wipes the sweat off her forehead with the hem of her t-shirt.

Jennie turns her head away so fast that something snaps in her neck, and she winces. But the pain is nothing compared to the warmth that spreads in her stomach as the image of Lisa's perfectly toned stomach burns itself into her mind.

(Sickening.

Absolutely sickening.)

“Law school?” Jennie mutters the question as a way to distract herself, but also because she is a bit curious about that part.

“He's a prosecutor. Wants me to go in his steps,” Lisa says and sits down on the ground, toying with the ball in her hands.

“Do you wan to?” Jennie moves to sit down as well.

Lisa shakes her head. “But it doesn't matter what I want.”

“Right,” Jennie mumbles because she kinda understands. “Still, it's just one match.”

“You don't get it,” Lisa says, frustration edging her voice. “It may be the most important match of the season. Daegu Dragons are our toughest rivals, and if we lose to them tomorrow, we may even lose the league title at the end of the season.”

Jennie lets out a small chuckle. Lisa is really serious about the whole soccer thing. It reminds Jennie of herself, but she doesn't linger on the thought.

“Don't you trust your teammates?” Jennie asks, lips tipped up in a cheeky smile.

Lisa tilts her head, looking at her as if she has just said the stupidest thing ever.

“We're already at a disadvantage without Hyunjin and Siyeon,” the blonde states adamantly. “And not to brag, but I'm the best striker on the team. I mean, hello? Top scorer of the previous season? So yeah, that's that.”

Jennie grins in spite of herself. Lisa's confidence in her skills is somewhat endearing. Same goes for her exaggerated smirk.

“By the way, no one showed up to the tryouts,” the girl mutters, her expression darkening all of a sudden, and Jennie doesn't miss the accusation that flashes in her eyes.

But she can only shrug to that. She guesses Lisa's words have something to do with Chanmi, Mina and Seolhyun, but Jennie isn't their babysitter. And she most certainly won't tell them what they can do and what they cannot. The sooner Lisa understands this, the better.

“Whatever. I don't even know why I'm telling you all of this.”

“Sometimes it's easier to talk to strangers about your problems,” Jennie suggests, but her words seem to only further sour Lisa's mood.

They fall into awkward silence. Jennie observes as the sun slowly sinks behind the horizon, and it gives her an idea.

“Aren't you playing in the evening? Maybe you won't miss the whole match.”

“I may arrive by the end of it, if I'm lucky.”

The perspective doesn't seem to fill Lisa with much optimism, and Jennie decides that she's fed up with her moping around. It doesn't suit her.

“I'm bored. Are we playing, or what?” she jumps to her feet and whisks the ball from under Lisa's palm.

Lisa looks over her shoulder at her, a soft smile blossoming on her lips. And Jennie wills herself no to look back. Because that's the expression that suits Lisa the most.

* * *

Jennie doesn't know how or why she came up with the plan. It just happened.

Yesterday, before she went to sleep, she was staring at the ceiling, and she might or might have not been thinking about Lisa's sad eyes. And the bam! the idea fell on her like the apple on Newton's head. Though it was more of a memory than an idea.

Something that happened during her trip to London when her dad took her to the stadium for the first time in her life. Right then and there, Jennie decided that she loved the game but hated its supporters.

Anyhow, the idea was perfect because no one would suspect anything.

So the next day, during their lunch break, she sits down with Chanmi, Mina and Seolhyun (Jimin is still absent, but Jennie tries not to be too happy about it) and decides to share the plan with them.

“The match is today,” she says as she plops down beside Seolhyun and steals a grape from her lunch box.

Chanmi shoots her a wry look. “And?”

“I heard it's important,” Jennie continues, flashing her a cheeky grin.

“Aand?” Chanmi drawls now with a hint of curiosity in her voice.

“How about we stir some shit up, hm? You know, so that Jimin would be proud of us.” Jennie arches a challenging brow at the younger girl and pops another grape into her mouth.

Chanmi smirks. “You have my attention.”

“Okay, so here's what we need...” Jennie leans forward and starts to explain the details of her plan in a hush.

* * *

Staring at the piece of black cloth in her hand, Jennie wonders just what the hell she is doing.

(Because no, she is _not_ doing this for Lisa.

That would be just ridiculous.)

And then she reminds herself that Jimin will be impressed once she hears about what they did. Who knows, maybe she'll even become less suspicious of her? She sure did gain some trust points in Chanmi's eyes. The girl was ecstatic about the plan. It kinda creeped the hell out of Jennie.

“Fuck it,” she mumbles then shoves the cloth into her backpack, slings it over her shoulder and leaves her room.

As she runs down the stairs, her mother intercepts her. A hopeful smile on her lips when she asks, “Are you going to see the match?”

And Jennie thinks it's bitterly ironic and unfair.

Because Lisa wants nothing more than to play soccer, but her father wants her to spend her life in a courtroom. Meanwhile, Jennie's parents are ready to sell their souls to the devil just to see her play again.

“No,” she replies and doesn't stay to see how her mother's smile falters yet again.

* * *

The two hours Lisa spends with her father at his job is easily the most boring time of her life. And if anything, it only strengthens her belief that she would rather die than become a prosecutor.

But of course, she greets everyone with a smile and asks a lot of questions, hoping that the more interest she shows, the faster the whole farce will end. The strategy proves successful, and her father even agrees to take her back to school.

Lisa jumps out of the car the moment her father parks it in front of the school's building. He shouts something after her, but his words get lost in the wind swishing by her ears.

She bursts into the building like a hurricane and almost slips on the polished floor when she rounds a corner. Luckily, she regains her balance and finally reaches the doors of the locker room. She flings it open and... sees her team ready to leave.

They stare at her, looking mostly dejected while she counts the time in her head again. But according to the clock that hangs in the room, she's right, and the match should last for another half an hour.

“What happened? Why aren't you playing?”

Chaeyoung steps forward, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

“Before the match even began, a group of masked people showed up and started throwing flares at the pitch. Long story short, the referee decided to put off the match.”

“I bet it was Jimin and her minions.” Hyejeong huffs, folding arms at her chest.

Ironically, her friend's words bring a little smile to Lisa's lips. But noticing Chaeyoung's suspicious look, she quickly replaces it with a more neutral expression.

“Anyway, better tell us why the hell would you ditch us, huh?” Jisoo confronts her with an angry scowl on her face as she steps between her and the defender.

Dragging fingers through her hair, Lisa drops to the nearest bench. She knows her team isn't as much disappointed in the match being put off as they are in her not showing up.

“I'm sorry guys,” she mutters apologetically. “My dad dragged me to his job.”

“Is this about that stupid law school again?” Chaeyoung plops down next to her, draping a comforting arm over her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Lisa says and looks up to meet her teammates' eyes. “I just didn't have the guts to tell you guys. I'm like the worst captain ever.”

“Hey, it's okay.” Jisoo pats Lisa on the knee as she crouches in front of her. “I mean, it's not your fault your dad wants to make some Ace Attorney out of you, right girls?”

The whole team nods in agreement.

Lisa chuckles in relief, eyes slightly wet but she keeps her composure.

“Just next time give us some heads up, 'kay?” Jisoo says with a wink, and Lisa nods vehemently.

“Now that I think of it, we should actually thank Jimin,” Yuna states, rubbing her chin in thought. “Since the match is put off till next week, we can play as a whole team again.”

“Luck in disguise,” Jisoo exclaims, jumping to her feet.

“Don't you mean 'blessing'?” Yuna corrects, but the midfielder waves her off.

“I'm an atheist.”

“Right...”

“Where's the coach?” Lisa suddenly asks, looking around the locker room.

“In her office. You should probably go and talk to her. But be warned, she's seriously pissed,” Chaeyoung informs, chuckling at Lisa's pained expression.

After that, the team says their goodbyes and leaves, but Lisa stops Chaeyoung, wanting to talk to her alone.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything,” she mutters awkwardly. “I just I didn't know how and--”

“Hey, it's okay, Champ,” the defender assures with a smile as she looks into Lisa's eyes. “I won't say am not disappointed, but I kinda get you. I know soccer means a lot to you, and it sucks that your parents don't approve of that. But maybe you should really try and talk to them. Tell them what you really want to do in life.”

Lisa laughs but it lacks humor. “No, it would be a disaster. I would much rather come out to them than tell them that I think of becoming a professional soccer player.”

“Well, if you put it this way, it really does sound bad,” Chaeyoung admits sadly. “Anyway, whatever happens I always have your back. So don't you ever be afraid to talk to me about anything that bothers you, get it?”

Lisa shows two thumbs up. “Got it.”

“Good.” Chaeyoung flashes her a satisfied smirk. “Now run to Miss Lee and be sure to behave yourself,” she says as she turns Lisa around and gives her a little shove on the back.

Lisa stumbles forward but regains her footing and looks back at Chaeyoung. “What that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I don't know. Don't jump her bones, or something.”

Blushing madly, Lisa rolls her eyes. “You're seriously the worst, Chaeng.”

“Love you too.” The defender sends her a cheeky wink and leaves the locker room.

* * *

After spending two days in the lavish mansion, the place begins to feel too much like a prison. Though on a second thought, it has always felt that way. A golden cage her parents stubbornly insist on calling a 'home'.

Jimin abhors it.

The fancy draperies and carpets, famous paintings and vases made of Chinese porcelain. It's all so pretentious and unnecessarily flamboyant. Jimin feels sick just by looking at it.

So when the Friday evening arrives, she decides to finally break free, or else she's bound to lose her mind.

She's about to leave the house, not making a secret of it, when her father appears behind her in the corridor.

“Where are you going?” he asks, and Jimin easily catches onto that tiny trace of panic and fear in his voice.

_Pathetic._

Smirking, she turns around to face him. “To June's place.”

“You can't leave yet,” the man warns, stepping closer to her. His tall, broad frame looming over her in a sinister manner. “Besides, I told you to stop meeting that boy.”

Jimin chuckles, tilting her head.

“Why?” she inquires calmly. “Is it because you want to see me suffer like you do? Deny me happiness just because you can't reach your own? Tell me, just how frustrated were you after seeing that match, hm? Were you ha--”

She flinches, closing her eyes and bracing herself for the impact as her father lifts his burly hand. But nothing happens. She opens her eyes and sees the man red-faced and shaking, veins popping along his neck.

Jimin grins because her father looks like a caricature of himself.

“You're pathetic,” she says when his hand drops to his side. “But don't worry. I won't tell him I have it because of you.”

Before she leaves the house, she glances into the mirror that hangs beside the door.

The purple bruise around her eye barely visible.

She did a good job with the makeup.

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter so far. I hope it's not boring. Let me know what you think!


	5. Just One Question

Lisa spends the whole weekend wondering whether Jennie will show up on Monday at their usual spot. Although the brunette seems to have warmed up to her, she is still a mystery to Lisa. And even more now, after what she did on Friday.

Sure, to anyone else it looked like another act of malice perpetrated by the 'Jimin's anti-soccer team alliance', and it would have looked the same to Lisa, if not for the conversation she had with Jennie before that match.

As silly and naive as it sounds, Lisa can't help but to feel that Jennie did it so that the match could be put off, and she would be able to play in it. On the other hand, it could have been a mere coincidence. Maybe it wasn't even Jennie's idea to begin with.

Either way, whatever the reason was behind that stunt, Lisa is now mostly afraid that Jennie wouldn't want to confront her about it and avoid their meeting as a result.

So when she sees Jennie on the depleted tennis court, tiptoeing while scribbling something on the green wall, her hearts skips a beat (out of joy, of course). Jennie doesn't avoid her, and that in itself brings a huge grin to Lisa's lips.

Coming closer to the girl, the blonde gets a better look at what she's doing.

There are squares of various sizes on the wall with numbers inside of them. Lisa smiles, recognizing it as a game she used to play with Chaeyoung to help improve their aim.

They would kick the ball at the wall and depending which square it hit, they would earn the corresponding number of points. That was one way to play it. The other was one person saying a number and the other trying to hit the square with that number on it.

Lisa chuckles under her breath, watching as Jennie tries to draw a small square in the top left corner – always the toughest one to hit and worth the most points. She stretches her arms and tiptoes but try as she might, she just cannot reach it.

To be honest, though taller than Jennie, Lisa would also have troubles reaching there. But an idea pops up in her head and before giving it enough thought, Lisa approaches Jennie and wrapping arms around her waist, lifts her up.

“What the hell?! Put me down!” Jennie yells and squirms in Lisa's grip, prompting the blonde to let her go.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.” Lisa puts up her hands and makes a step back as Jennie whips around, spearing her with a glare.

“Don't. Touch me,” the brunette warns her in a voice akin to a growl.

Lisa notices how she snaps the chalk in her palm in half. She gulps. “I just thought you needed a hand,” she says, pointing the wall behind them.

For a moment, Jennie holds her gaze (Lisa isn't sure whether she should stay, or run), but then she exhales loudly, tension leaving her body, and she throws one half of the chalk to Lisa.

“You do it,” she commands and steps away from the wall, folding arms at her chest.

Lisa shrugs and gives it a try. Tiptoeing under the wall in the same fashion as Jennie did a second ago, she manages to scribble a wonky looking 10 at the very bottom of the square.

“There. So how we gonna play it?” She turns to Jennie and observes her as she puts her ball onto the ground then swings her leg and kicks it.

The ball whizzes past Lisa's head, making her flinch, and hits a perfect ten.

“Whoever scores the most points, wins,” Jennie says, gushing with a challenging smirk.

After overcoming her initial shock of being almost decapitated by Jennie's ball, Lisa replies with a grin of her own. “What's the prize if I win?” she throws cheekily.

Jennie scoffs. “Who said you gonna win?”

* * *

Two hours later, Lisa sits down on the ground, wiping sweat off her forehead and cursing under her breath as she sees Jennie score another ten.

“One hundred fifty to one hundred ten. You sure you wanna continue?” Jennie asks, plopping down next to Lisa, the ball tucked under her arm.

Lisa scowls at Jennie's smug expression. It's just a stupid game, but the blonde's competitive spirit refuses to treat it as such. She hates to lose. Especially when it comes to soccer.

“I want a rematch, tomorrow,” she says, sounding like a petulant kid, but she hardly cares.

“Sure,” Jennie says, twirling the ball on her forefinger with an expertise of a basketball player.

In a sudden surge of pettiness (because really, is there something Jennie is bad at?), Lisa knocks the ball off her finger.

Jennie raises an eyebrow at her and snorts a chuckle. “You're a sore loser,” she remarks.

Lisa's response is an indifferent shrug.

She's well aware of it. When she was eight, she lost to Chaeyoung in a game of checkers. And how did she handle the defeat? She took the game and threw it into a trash bin outside her house.

Seeing this, Chaeyoung called her a sore loser. With her limited knowledge of Korean, Lisa didn't even know what it meant, which only further aggravated her. She didn't speak to Chaeyoung for a week.

Now it all seems silly to her. But truth is, she hasn't changed that much. If at all. Thankfully, Jennie doesn't take her bratty actions personally. She even looks amused as the corners of her lips curl slowly upward.

And somehow, that smile is enough to make the bitter taste of defeat fade away. What's left, however, is embarrassment painting Lisa's cheeks red.

(Embarrassment and something else.

Something that tells Lisa Jennie should definitely smile more.)

Jennie stands up and goes to retrieve the ball, her frame glowing in the afternoon sun, and Lisa finds it hard to tear her gaze away from her legs exposed by the loose shorts.

She only does so once Jennie turns around. Her eyes flicker to the frazzled laces of her hoodie, as she absentmindedly toys with them, and she hopes the brunette didn't notice her staring.

When Jennie sits back next to her, the blonde realizes that she finally has her chance to talk to her. The girl seems to be in an exceptionally good mood today. So Lisa hopes she will be more willing to talk as well.

“Jennie? Can I ask you something?” she asks, trying to sound as if she's going to ask about tomorrow's weather, or homework.

But such trivial questions don't require one's permission to ask, and Lisa quickly realizes her mistake. She cringes internally at her choice of words when Jennie frowns at her suspiciously.

“Depends,” the girl mutters, her posture growing visibly rigid, reminding Lisa about the first time they met.

Biting down on her lower lip, the blonde is unsure whether she should continue. She doesn't want to scare the girl off, and frankly speaking, right now, Jennie looks like she's ready to jump to her feet and storm off in the most dramatic fashion.

(Lisa wonders why.

What are the questions Jennie is so afraid of?

And what are the answers to them?)

Eventually, curiosity gets the better of Lisa, and she decides to voice out what's on her mind.

“On Friday, did you--?”

“It was Jimin's idea,” Jennie cuts her off sharply, and just like Lisa predicted, she stands up from the ground.

She doesn't leave, however, and starts to juggle the ball with her feet.

“Right...,” Lisa mutters, hoping she doesn't sound too disappointed.

She passes the ball to Jennie when it slides off her toes and escapes her (she did twenty juggles, Lisa counted).

“It's ironic, don't you think?” the blonde continues the topic, because she still feels something isn't right.

After all, Jennie could tell Jimin that her sabotage would actually bring the team more good than harm. But she didn't.

Jennie doesn't stop her juggling when she asks, “Why?”

“The match was put off. She actually helped us.”

Jennie smirks like she saw it coming. Like she expected Lisa to tell her exactly that, and it's somewhat infuriating.

But it's only when the ball escapes her again (on her twenty-eight juggle) that she faces Lisa and says,

“Nah, you were simply lucky. The referee could have you forfeit the game.”

Lisa's jaw falls slightly ajar and eyes widen in realization.

Jennie is right. They were playing at their school. Those were their students who interrupted the match. Their very own brand of 'hooligans'. The referee could have even assumed it was done on purpose.

A sickening kind of dread settles at the pit of Lisa's stomach as she realizes that they could have lost one of the most important matches without as much as even touching the ball. All because of Jimin.

But that's not event the worst part. Because Jennie knew all about it, and she did nothing to stop Jimin.

Lisa isn't sure whether she should laugh, or cry, at how delusional and naive she sometimes is. So before she does any of these things, she stands up from the ground, dusts off her shorts and her hoodie, and decides to go home.

“Where you're going?” Jennie asks from behind her.

“Home,” Lisa chokes out as tears begin to clog her throat.

“Lisa.”

Jennie's tone of voice isn't even remotely convincing, or inviting, and yet, for some unfathomable to Lisa reason, it makes her stop.

“What?” She whips around, glaring at Jennie who just stares at her impassively.

“I told you already. We're not friends.”

Lisa's palms clench into fists at her sides. Jennie's words are callous, but Lisa knows she can't dispute them.

The girl had told her exactly that, but the blonde decided to disregard the thinly veiled warning of thinking they could be something more than just strangers playing soccer in the middle of nowhere, and naively thought that Jennie was different. And that eventually, they could become friends.

So in the end, Lisa has no one to blame for her current tears other than herself. She can't expect Jennie to suddenly side with her, because from the very beginning, Jennie was clear with whom her allegiance lay - with Jimin and her clique.

Lisa doesn't get it. But at the same time, she knows Jennie won't give her any answers, even if she asks.

And that's what angers Lisa the most about this whole situation. She should just give up on Jennie, right here and right now, before the girl hurts her even more, inadvertently, but still. However, she stupidly refuses to do so.

Not yet. Not until she knows Jennie's true motives behind her actions.

(Why she hangs with Jimin?

Why she stopped playing soccer?

Why she looks so scared and broken sometimes?)

“I have to go study. I have a test tomorrow,” Lisa says as her sobs subside, and she wipes her tears with a sleeve of her hoodie.

Jennie's expression remains cold as she gives a curt nod. “See you tomorrow then,” she says and gets back to juggling the ball.

“Yeah, see you,” Lisa mutters tiredly.

She shoves her hands to the pockets of her hoodie and shuffling her feet, leaves the tennis court.

* * *

Jennie knows she shouldn't be surprised to see Jimin at school on a Thursday morning. Sooner or later the girl had to come back. And usually, her mysterious absences didn't last longer than one week anyway.

However, it's not Jimin's appearance as such that catches Jennie off guard, it's rather the position and place in which she finds the girl.

With one leg crossed over the other, Jimin is sitting on Jennie's desk with Chanmi and Mina flanking her. The sight makes Jennie stop in her tracks the moment she walks into the classroom.

Jimin immediately catches her gaze and grins like a Cheshire cat. “Hello Jennie. Long time see, hm?”

“Yeah,” Jennie admits as she resumes her walk towards her desk. She sees Chanmi shooting her a dirty look, like she's offended by her presence, but Jennie just ignores it.

“How are you doing?” she asks Jimin and drops her backpack to the floor, before taking her seat.

Jimin occupies half of her desk, and Jennie briefly wonders whether her skirt complies with the school's regulations regarding appropriating clothing.

(Judging by the amount of exposed skin, it most surely doesn't.

But it's not like Jennie should be bothered by that.

And she isn't.)

“I'm great. What about you?” Jimin asks as she tilts her head and swings her legs playfully.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Jennie wonders what the hell is Jimin playing at with this bizarre behavior.

In her peripheral vision, however, she can see that Chanmi and Mina remain unperturbed - Chanmi checking her nails while Mina checking her phone, as usual. So if they don't notice anything out of ordinary, Jennie decides neither should she.

(Unless they know something, she doesn't.

Unless Jimin does it on purpose just to get her on edge.

On edge of something exactly?

Jennie doesn't know.

And doesn't want to.)

She shakes off the thoughts and smirks lightly. “I'm fine, thanks,” she replies just as the teacher enters the classroom.

Mina and Chanmi say their goodbyes and leave to their respective classrooms, while Jimin finally jumps off Jennie's desk. But before she saunters off to take her seat, she sends Jennie a wink.

Jennie frowns at her retreating form, and once again bites the inside of her cheek.

But this time, she does so until she tastes copper on her tongue.

* * *

The spring is in its full swing today. The sun shines brightly on the clear blue sky, prompting students to leave their classrooms and spend their breaks outside. Jennie sprawls on one of the benches near the basketball court. Jimin brought them here to watch Junhoe, Bobby, Jinhwan and Hanbin as they play.

Having no interest in the game, and ignoring Bobby's attempts to impress her with his tricks, Jennie simply enjoys the sunlight and observes her surroundings.

(She doesn't look for anyone in particular.

But when she catches a glimpse of blond hair, her breath hitches involuntarily.

It's a false alarm, however.)

Jennie breaths out slowly, and her gaze veers to Bobby. His messy bangs falling into his eyes, and he breaks into his signature goofy grin as he scores three points and high-fives Jinhwan. But as he catches Jennie staring at him, his smile dims a little, changing into a softer one.

Jennie thinks he looks kinda cute.

(But not as cute as...)

Smiling back at Bobby, Jennie decides to talk to him later. She still needs him. Maybe now more than ever. Chanmi and Seolhyun have been already asking her about them. And it's a matter of time before Jimin decides to use it against her as a ruse in one of her mind-games.

“Chanmi told me about your little stunt on Friday,” Jimin's voice catches Jennie's attention. The girl sidles up to her, their thighs almost touching. “She made it sound like it was her idea.”

Jennie focuses her gaze on Bobby, on his toned arms and sharp jawline, and doesn't say anything.

“I mean don't get me wrong,” Jimin continues, voice tinted with amusement. “She's a smart girl, but a rather simple one. And what you did on Friday required a bit of planning, as I can imagine.”

“I just felt like having a bit of a fun.” Jennie's shoulders lift in a lazy shrug.

Jimin leans back against the bench. “It's a shame it actually helped them,” she remarks offhandedly.

Jennie swallows nervously, hearing these words, but decides to keep watching the game and say nothing, afraid that whatever she says would sound too defensive.

But Jimin refuses to leave it at that and further elaborates, “I heard Manoban wasn't playing in that match. From what I gather she's their key player, so they were at a disadvantage. But now the match is put off...,” she trails off, and Jennie can feel her eyes boring holes into the back of her skull.

It all makes Jennie's heartbeat quicken its pace. Jimin is blatantly questioning her motives. But why? She doesn't know about her meetings with Lisa. Unless... No, she doesn't. There's no way she does. Maybe she just wants to piss her off. Get under her skin with her vague words and rile her up, just for the fun of it.

So Jennie knows the best way to deal with this is to keep her cool, not letting the girl provoke her.

“They were lucky,” Jennie scoffs, looking over her shoulder at Jimin.“The referee could have made them forfeit the game.”

“Could he?” Jimin raises a single eyebrow. “I suppose he could. But it was just a match between two schools. I doubt he would consider such harsh punishment. As far as I know, it never happened before.”

Jennie grips the edge of the bench with her hands until her knuckles turn white. She stares at the girl, at her heavier than usual make-up. The sun illuminates her face, and Jennie can clearly see a darker patch of skin under her left eye.

She has already noticed it earlier. And she is certain that the rest has also noticed it. But of course, no one dares to speak, or ask about it.

Maybe Jimin lost a fight to someone, or maybe it's something else entirely. Something more sinister and cruel. Something that Jennie should never use against her. But feeling cornered as she is right now, Jennie does just that, thinking that two can play at this game.

A placid smile spreads across her lips as she asks, “What happened to you? Why were you absent this past week?”

Jimin blinks, a minute shift in her demeanor betraying her surprise.

“Flu,” she answers, and it's the first time when Jennie can actually tell that she's lying. Jimin must be aware of this, because she quickly adds (albeit in her usual nonchalant tone), “For someone who hates soccer you know awfully lot about it.”

Jennie smirks. “I could say the same about you,” she retorts easily, and she feels like she has won.

A checkmate kind of triumph. But unfortunately, it doesn't last long. And Jennie can tell by the way Jimin grins that she has yet another ace up her sleeve.

She leans closer to her, too close for Jennie's liking (she can smell her sickeningly sweet perfumes), and murmurs (almost huskily), “That's because you have to know your enemy, Jennie.”

The words send chills down Jennie's spine and fill her heart and mind with a sense of paralyzing dread. Because it no longer feels like they are talking about soccer.

(To be honest, it never does.

It never is just about soccer, is it?

But then what is it about?

And does she really want to find out?

No.

Never.

Never again.)

The sound of the school's bell announcing the end of the break brings Jennie back from her thoughts. Her eyes meet Jimin's face, and the girl flashes her one last smile, before she leaves the bench and joins June.

Taking a ragged breath, Jennie notices that Bobby hasn't left yet. And she knows it's kinda selfish, but she has never been more glad to see him than she is now.

“Bobby?” she asks, syllables a bit wobbly.

The boy is visibly taken aback by her addressing him but approaches her anyway. “Yeah?”

“Can you walk with me to class?”

He beams at her, and seeing his toothy grin makes her feel a bit better.

“Sure thing,” he says, and Jennie joins his side, clinging onto his arm.

“You know, lately, I've been thinking about stuff...,” he begins carefully as they are about to enter the school's building.

Jennie lets out a sigh. She's too emotionally drained to deal with his apology now.

“Bobby, can you we talk about this later? Please?” she asks, looking up at him.

He doesn't say anything, just gives her a reassuring smile and nods.

“Thanks,” she says and squeezes his arm gently. “We can meet up after school,” she adds as an afterthought.

In her head, there's a brief flash of Lisa's disappointed expression. She ignores it, though, because Bobby agrees and that's all that should matter now.

* * *

“Want to hang out at my place today?” Jimin asks as she stops by Jennie's desk once the final school bell resounds.

Jennie isn't surprised that the girl acts like nothing has happened during the break earlier, and yet she almost laughs when she hears the proposition. Frankly speaking, she would rather be eaten alive by a pack of rabid dogs than spend her afternoon in Jimin's presence.

But of course, that's not something Jimin should know. They are friends, after all. And no, nothing has happened during that break.

“Sorry, I'm meeting with Bobby today,” Jennie says, slings her backpack over her shoulder and waves to the boy who already waits for her at the door.

“Shame,” Jimin replies, eyes lingering on Jennie for a second longer than the brunette deems as necessary.

But this time, Jennie resists the urge to frown. She's probably imaging things, anyway.

“Maybe next time,” she says, giving Jimin a light pat on her shoulder and leaves to join Bobby.

She greets him with a kiss on his lips, making sure that Jimin sees it.

* * *

Jennie goes with Bobby to a local restaurant, located near their school, to grab something to eat and talk. It's a small, quiet place with a western vintage exterior. A bit tacky but Jennie doesn't mind it that much.

“So like I said, I've been thinking about stuff...,” Bobby says, after returning the menu to the waitress.

Jennie stops mindlessly scrolling through her phone.

She'd thought she was ready to talk about what happened that day in Junhoe's basement. However right now, she isn't so sure anymore. Her guts still twist at the memory and fingers shake uncontrollably. But it's not like she can leave now.

“And I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry, Jen,” the boy says, and Jennie can tell he means it. His eyes are downcast and shoulders hunched, and when he speaks it's with quiet, careful words.

“I acted like a douchebag. I totally crossed the line, and I should have never--” his voice breaks all of a sudden, and he swallows hard. Jennie has never seen him looking so serious before, and she barely recognizes him.

“But I promise it won't ever happen again. I don't want to lose you, Jen. So can this idiot get a second chance? Hm?” he asks, ducking his head to meet Jennie's gaze.

And when she sees these silly bunny teeth, she smiles a little. Granted, Bobby isn't the smartest guy out there, he barely passes his tests and his sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired sometimes, but he is a genuine one, and that's something Jennie has always valued the most.

Somehow, however, this sudden realization is as much comforting as it is alarming, and Jennie's smile falters a little.

(She has never thought of it before but sometimes...

...he reminds her of...

...her...)

“Jen? Are you okay?”

She blinks at him and only now realizes that her cheek feels wet. She quickly wipes it with the heel of her palm.

“I'm fine,” she assures. “And yeah, that idiot can get a second chance.”

He grins at her and reaches to gently wipe her tears because somehow they don't want to stop flowing.

(But it's okay.

It's all good now.

Because Bobby is a boy.

So everything is as it should be.)

* * *

Drops of sweat trickle down Lisa's temple as she slowly makes her way towards the penalty area. She takes her position, observing as Jisoo prepares herself for a corner kick. However, her vision is soon blocked by a tall defender in an orange jersey.

Lisa scowls. The girl has been trailing her the entire match, making it impossible for Lisa to do just anything remotely useful with the ball.

And that's partly why the scoreboard displays two fat zeros.

Lisa jumps into the air when Jisoo finally kicks the ball. But the tall girl in front of her easily wins the header, and Lisa ends up only chasing the ball again as Deagu Dragons begin their counterattack.

Thankfully, their defenders are doing a much better job today than Lisa, or any of their midfielders for that matter, and Chaeyoung thwarts the opponent's attack with a well aimed slide.

Lisa releases a breath of relief and glances at the scoreboard. They still have twenty minutes. Plenty of time to score a goal or two.

“Come on girls, we still can win it!” she shouts to boost her team's morale.

“Ay, ay, Captain!” Jisoo salutes her playfully from the opposite side of the pitch.

Lisa shows her a thumbs up, and the Dragons resume the match from the sideline.

* * *

“Stupid, fucking, useless piece of junk...” Lisa mutters under her breath as she struggles to open the padlock to her locker.

She tugs it and twists it, but the stupid thing just won't open, even though she's certain she has the correct code.

After trying a different code, just to make sure, Lisa finally gives up and punches the metal door, immediately regretting the action when pain shoots through her palm. Hissing out a curse, she falls onto the bench under the locker.

She's glad her teammates had already left. It wouldn't be good for the team's morale if they've witnessed just how pathetic their captain is.

But of course, there's one person who hasn't left yet.

“Geez Champ, relax.” Chaeyoung approaches her to sit down beside her. She takes her hand and assesses the damage. There's blood on Lisa's knuckles, and Chaeyoung glares at her when she sees it.

“Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?” the defender asks as she leaves to get a bandage from her bag. “We didn't lose, after all,” she says as she returns to Lisa's side and starts bandaging her lacerated palm.

“A nil-nil draw at our own school is just as good as a defeat,” Lisa mutters with a pout.

Chaeyoung gives her a doubtful look and shakes her head wordlessly.

“Done,” she says once she finishes tying the bandage. Then she proceeds to unlock Lisa's locker. “The code is your own birthday, you dummy. How can you even forget that?”

Lisa shrugs, smiling at her friend. It's a tired smile but an honest one. “Thanks, Chaeng,” she says.

“You're welcome.” Chaeyoung beams and pats her on the head. “Now, are you coming back with me?”

Lisa shakes her head. “Sorry. I just need some time alone.”

“Suit yourself,” Chaeyoung sighs and slings her duffel bag over her shoulder. “Just promise you won't go around punching stuff, 'kay?”

Once Chaeyoung leaves, Lisa takes her stuff from the locker and goes to the school's stadium where she takes a seat on the bleachers. Looking at the empty soccer field, she starts to replay the match in her head, analyzing her every step, every pass and every kick.

(What could she have done differently?

What opportunities did she miss?

What aspects of her play need improvement?)

But all of these observations Lisa makes and conclusions she reaches, do little to diminish that kind of frustration and disappointment she feels right now.

They were given a second chance, and they completely wasted it.

Sure, they didn't lose, but she refuses to settle for anything other than a victory.

(She has to be the best.

Before she faces them.

And tells them the truth.)

“You look like a beat up stray dog.”

Lisa flinches, hearing the familiar, blasé voice. She turns around and sees Jennie hiding under the bleachers and staring at her, or rather scowling, from underneath a baseball cap.

“Jennie?” Lisa asks, resisting the urge to rub at her eyes in disbelief because that would be just silly “What are you doing here? And why are you hiding under the bleachers? Wait, have you seen the match?”

“Wow,” Jennie deadpans, eyes squinting in obvious annoyance. “Maybe you should consider that prosecutor's career, after all. You seem to be good at throwing questions at people.”

“Sorry,” Lisa says with a sheepish smile. “I just didn't expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jennie mutters and looks around the place as if she's looking for someone - someone whom she actually doesn't want to see.

And when it seems like she's certain that the person isn't there, she leaves her hideout and takes a seat next to Lisa.

“You know that a nil-nil draw is not the end of the world, right?” she states as a matter-of-factly.

Lisa rolls her eyes. “I've already explained to you how important that match was. I'm not gonna repeat myself twice.”

Jennie snorts a humorless chuckle. “Good. That would be boring. And I wouldn't listen, anyway.”

“Shut up,” Lisa mumbles, nudging her shoulder.

A small smile ghosts over Jennie's lips, but it's so brief that Lisa is almost certain she has simply imagined it.

“Just win at their school, and you're good,” Jennie says, propping her elbows on the bleachers behind her.

“Easier said than done.” Lisa heaves a sigh and rests her chin in her palm.

They lapse into momentary silence, during which Lisa briefly wonders what made Jennie come here today.

(Briefly because she has already learned that it's futile to try and guess the girl's motives behind any of her actions.)

And yet, she steals a furtive glance at Jennie, looking for some kind of clue. But the girl's face is her usual stoic facade. Her eyebrows pulled in a frown and lips a tight line as she stares at the soccer field before them.

Lisa worries her lower lip between her teeth, thinking whether she should just simply ask her about it. But then she notices how Jennie's expression softens, melts into a wistful one, like she has just remembered something, and the memory is both happy and painful.

So Lisa decides to take a risk and ask the one question that has been lingering on her mind ever since that day she saw Jennie kick the ball during the P.E class.

“Jennie?”

“Mhm?”

“Why did you stop playing soccer?”

And Jennie yet again surprises Lisa because instead of looking like she wants to run away, or punch Lisa's face, her expression remains unaffected, as if she hasn't even heard the question.

Seconds tick by in silence, but to the blonde they feel like hours, and she almost loses her hope that Jennie will say anything. But then the girl looks at Lisa, her eyes searching and unsure when she replies:

“I wish I knew it myself.”

Lisa opens her mouth but no sound leaves them. And she can only stare at Jennie as the girl pushes her cap further down her face and with hands shoved to the pockets of her leather jacket, walks away.

Once again leaving Lisa with more questions than answers.

 

**TBC**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for taking so long to update this. I had an awful writer's block when it comes to this story. But now the spring has come, and I feel motivated to write this again. I hope this chapter will make up for the delay. Also, huge thanks to all of the readers who left comments and even wrote to me personally asking about an update! Your unending support means a lot to me :D


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